


Timing is Everything

by nerdlife4eva



Series: Stick with me [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied Sexual Content, Jock Yuuri, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mistaken Identity, Nerd Victor, Oblivious Victor Nikiforov, Romantic Fluff, Roommates, Sexual Humor, Sort Of, Wingman Christophe Giacometti, Wingman Phichit Chulanont, Yuuri is an idiot, eventual angst, eventual whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: All Yuuri wanted to do was pet a dog, but a drunk stranger decided to hit on him instead.All Victor wanted to do was pet a dog, but a panicked Yuuri grabbed his arm in need of a pretend boyfriend.In an alternate world where Victor is a PhD candidate and Yuuri is the university's most popular jock, timing is everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Created in collaboration with the multi-talented [katsukifatale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrumpetGeek/pseuds/katsukifatale) for the [Viktuuri Big Bang 2018](http://yurionicebigbang.tumblr.com) please check out Mac's amazing writing at the above link and the art for this story [here](http://aetgart.tumblr.com/post/175292539640/timing-is-everything-n3rdlif343va) (more to be added for the chapters! So much amazing art, Mac kills me with their talent!) Also the line break art is by Mac too!
> 
> If you like this story, please consider checking out my other AUs! 
> 
> Some links in case you are interested:  
> [Be My Chef, Yuuri](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10102205)  
> (complete)  
> [Crash Into Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12527876/chapters/28528088)  
> (complete)  
> [Law Firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov and Chulanont](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11084109/chapters/24724854)  
> (update pending this week!)  
> [Prize Fight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14161275/chapters/32640531) (completes this weekend!)  
> [Katsuki's Pet Needs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11403003/chapters/25540758)  
> [Love and Puns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921047) (complete)

The sun illuminated the green field, its heat still radiating in waves despite its slow descent toward the horizon. Bodies were spread across the ground, backs sticky with sweat pressed into the well-manicured turf with legs stretched straight toward the sky. Wheezing groans echoed from the players as they rotated their hips, one leg kicked perpendicular to their bodies to create a tortuous release of practice-sore muscles.

Sweat dripped down Yuuri’s forehead, sneaking beneath his sports glasses and making him wince as it caught in his eyelashes. Lifting an arm, heavy with exhaustion, Yuuri shoved his glasses toward his forehead and wiped the sweat from his eyes. Too tired to put his glasses back into place, Yuuri let his head fall back, accepting his blurry vision for the remainder of their cool down.

“What would it take-”

“No,” Yuuri said, not even turning to look at his best friend. Any time Phichit started a conversation with this exact sentence, Yuuri ended up in a situation that never failed to embarrass him. The Halloween party where Yuuri was one of the Ambiguously Gay Duo? His fault for answering “fifteen tacos” to the question “what would it take to get you to dress like a superhero for this party?” The absurd photo of Yuuri dressed in nothing but his compression shorts holding a bunny? Also the product of Yuuri not thinking quickly enough when asked “what would it take to get you to pose for a charity calendar?”

“You aren’t even going to hear me out?” Phichit threw a handful of grass in Yuuri’s direction as they peeled themselves off the ground, repositioning into calf stretches.

“I’ve developed an immunity to your voice,” Yuuri joked, too tired to dodge Phichit’s fist as it punched him on the arm. “And to your punching. No wonder you’re second string, that wasn’t even hard.” He snickered when Phichit attempted a second punch, reflexively slapping his friend’s hand before it could make contact.

“Katsuki! Chulanont! If you don’t want to take your cooldowns seriously, perhaps you should run another lap!” Their coach stood at the head of the group with his hands on his hips. Celestino’s wicked smirk told them he wouldn’t hesitate to make them do it.

“Sorry coach,” they mumbled in unison, Yuuri throwing a glare in Phichit’s direction as he changed legs.

“How about for true love?” Phichit whispered under his breath, counting backwards to time his stretch and then moving behind Yuuri to partner up for arm stretches.

“Mythical concept,” Yuuri remarked, shaking his head. He let Phichit guide his arms backwards until his wrists touched, sighing at the relief spreading through his aching shoulders. “Since when are you in love?” When Phichit released him from the first hold, Yuuri quickly shook off the remaining tension in his arms and then offered them backwards again.

“Remember cat boy, my TA?” Phichit pulled Yuuri’s arms back until his muscles resisted, rolling his eyes at Yuuri’s confused hum. “I used to airdrop all those hamster pictures last semester, and in one of my discussion sessions the TA was majorly hot-”

“The one with the hair?” Yuuri asked, vaguely recalling Phichit’s obsession with a curly-haired grad student. He remembered the swooning that had almost caused his best friend to fail two finals, and also the late night tutoring sessions Phichit had required from said grad student in order to pass.

“The one with the hair, the one with the body, and the one who airdropped me his phone number with a picture of a cat that said you’re one cool cat,” Phichit’s sigh was dreamy and had Yuuri choking back a laugh.

Shoving Phichit in front of him, Yuuri returned the favor of stretching his backup’s arms. “Are you dating him?” If they had started dating, Yuuri had definitely missed it. Not that missing things would be beyond Yuuri, but he figured he should clarify the level at which Phichit was in love before he agreed to waiver in his definite rejection of any proposed plan.

“Well… no…” Phichit whined when Yuuri pulled his arms back, wiggling uncomfortably against Yuuri’s hold. “See we couldn’t date until he wasn’t my TA and then he has been really busy with grad school so I only see him occasionally for lunches. But there is this party tonight at his friend’s house and he invited me… and maybe hinted that I should plan not to return to my apartment… And I could really use to get laid!”

The last part of Phichit’s declaration was loud enough to catch the ears of most of their teammates. Without a word, Coach Celestino raised his finger in the air and made three slow circles. Punching Phichit on his bicep, Yuuri abandoned their spot on the field and headed for the outer chalk line that surrounded it. “Three laps because of your horny ass,” Yuuri said, eyes flicking in Phichit’s direction as he joined Yuuri to run the perimeter of the field.

“My _ass_ is horny,” Phichit commented, snorting when Yuuri almost tripped over his own feet. “How about I buy you dinner and you help me get dicked down until breakfast. Deal?”

“What are best friends for?” Yuuri inquired, pushing his tired legs to move faster, his mind immediately starting to come up with the best places to make Phichit buy him copious amounts of food. Together, they set off to complete their laps, finally retrieving their equipment and leaving the field after all their teammates had already disappeared into the locker room.

Somewhere between the time that Victor had stumbled from his last class of the day and opened his laptop to begin to work through another portion of his thesis, the sun had disappeared to make way for the brightness of the spring moon. He had hardly noticed the transition, lost in a world of muscle groups and appropriately innovative new ideas as to how to heal their injuries. His head was spinning with his research, the number of tabs open between his two computer screens reaching dangerously over twenty, when a hand squeezing his shoulder caused him to shriek.

“Wow, calm my friend, it’s just me.” Christophe took a step backwards, laughing with his hands in the air as he settled himself on the edge of Victor’s bed. “You need to lighten up. You’ve been hidden in this room for five hours straight.”

Leaning over the back of his desk chair, Victor arched his spine until the cracking noises it made filled the room with their tiny popping sounds of relief. Rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, Victor spared a glance in Chris’s direction before returning his focus to the screen. “I have a limited amount of time to get this completed. Between work and studying, I have to use every spare minute...” Victor trailed off as Chris appeared again at his side, stealing his mouse from his hand and saving his document before slowly closing Victor’s laptop. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re going out tonight. Dan is having a party and I have invited a guy I have been dying to spend time with… specifically, time in my bed.” Holding up a finger to silence Victor’s protests, Chris shook his head. “And no, me hooking up with a guy I have been lusting after since the first time he dropped a hamster meme into the classroom’s public airdrop, is _not_ an excuse for you to _not_ come to this party. In fact, it is an excuse for you to come, and hopefully find somewhere to stay tonight.”

Smacking a hand to his forehead, Victor rose from his chair, crossing his room and yanking a pair of earplugs from his night stand. Holding them up, he defiantly declared, “I will wear these all night and I won’t come out of this room for anything if you will just leave me to work.”

“No can do,” Chris snagged the earplugs from Victor’s raised hand, pocketing them and snickering at Victor’s admonished expression. “One, no earplugs can block out the sound of someone being loved by me,” he winked when Victor rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “and two, you need to get out. All work and no play makes Victor a dull boy.” Striding into Victor’s closet, Chris yanked out a pair of Victor’s tightest jeans and a black button down shirt. “Take a shower, get dressed, eat something. You have one hour.” Ignoring Victor’s sputtered protests, Chris waltzed from the room, whistling as he swung his hips in victory.

Sighing, Victor eyed the clothes thrown over his bed, eyes trailing back to his darkened computer. His mind told him that he needed to keep working, that the only way to succeed was to continue forward at a full throttle, but a peculiar feeling in his chest had him turning toward his bathroom door. Resigned to allow Chris drag him into whatever chaos was planned, Victor threw on the shower to its hottest setting and prepared to survive his evening.

Phichit high-fived their Uber driver as he shoved Yuuri from the back of the car. Despite promising Yuuri dinner, Phichit had run late due to an eyeliner emergency and his need to redress Yuuri after deeming his outfit choice deplorable. Yuuri was determined to remain grumpy about this fact, even though Phichit’s excited energy was hard to resist. With Phichit’s arm slung over his shoulders, Yuuri let himself be guided up the steep stairs of the townhouse and through a stranger’s front door.

The room was filled with people Yuuri didn’t know, all of them already holding drinks and swaying along with the music playing in the background. In what appeared to be the kitchen, there was a rowdy game of beer pong and Yuuri immediately spotted the group of people playing flip cup along the edge of a coffee table. Most of them looked older than both himself and Phichit, and when Yuuri went to mention this to his best friend, he discovered that Phichit had already disappeared into the crowd. He could hear Phichit shouting about Jell-o shots from somewhere deeper in the house but couldn’t muster up the courage to seek out his best friend. Parties with their own age group, especially with their other teammates, were only slightly more comfortable than this current situation and Yuuri found himself nervously wandering through the crowds in search of something to drink.

Finally acquiring a beer from the overly friendly host manning the keg, Yuuri headed away from the kitchen, eyes roaming the floor around him. He had heard a rumor that the host had a dog and confirmed this with the man himself, immediately setting off in search of said fluff baby. Dogs were definitely better than people, and Yuuri preferred to wait out the rest of his time stuck in the post-collegiate flesh mob in the company of a canine companion. 

He spotted the golden retriever lying in the hallway. Dodging around several people to head toward the tempting fluffiness, he was caught off-guard by a hand on his elbow spinning him around. Feeling his back hit the wall and a set of arms cage him in, Yuuri squawked, desperately searching for a way out. 

“I haven’t seen you before, gorgeous,” breath dripping with the scent of alcohol blown too close to Yuuri’s face, the man was eying Yuuri as if he was a bowl of delicious food instead of a man himself. Panicked, he swallowed had, pulling his head back as far as possible, and silently praying for a savior. “How about a hello kiss? You look very kissable.” The stranger leaned in causing Yuuri’s panic to rise. 

Blindly, he grabbed at the arm of another person passing by, using the leverage of his grip to escape the drunk man’s advances. “Sorry, definitely can’t kiss you, my boyfriend…” with pleading eyes, Yuuri looked up to find the most gorgeous human ever staring down at him. All of his words fizzled on his tongue as he tried to reason why fate hated him so much. 

“Victor,” he added, Victor’s smile breaking over his face at his own dumb luck. The man begging for his favor in playing along was the most adorable man he had ever seen. Circling an arm around his waist, Victor lifted his gaze to glare at the drunken man sputtering in front of them. “You shouldn’t hit on my angel of a boyfriend. It would be hazardous to your health.” With a small chuckle, Victor reached forward and shoved the shoulder of the aggressive admirer. “Bye now,” he said, a singsong hint to his voice as he playfully waved the other man away. He watched the man stumble off, trying to place if he recognized the face while his hand unconsciously continued to cling to the hip underneath it.

Barely registering that he was now safe, Yuuri continued to stutter up at Victor. “I… thanks… dog… hate parties,” Yuuri winced at his own disjointed explanation, “I’m Yuuri.” He mentally patted himself on the back for remembering his own name, the blue of Victor’s eyes causing him to feel a little light-headed and disoriented. He rarely paid attention to the looks of anyone, but for some reason he couldn’t stop logging the beautiful features of Victor’s face into his permanent memory.

“I hate parties like this too,” Victor shrugged, blushing as he removed his arm from Yuuri’s waist to scratch at the back of his head. “I only came because my friend has a crush on some guy. I was coming to see Rufus,” nodding over his shoulder, Victor smiled at the snoozing dog, “when you grabbed me.” He was going to buy Rufus a steak for being the reason he had walked in this direction. Rufus, the unintentional matchmaker; the dog’s owners would probably get a huge kick out of the concept.

“Sorry about that,” Yuuri winced again, twiddling his fingers. “Panic mode.” He couldn’t help his laughter when Victor began to chuckle. “Thanks for the help. I owe you one.” The implication of Yuuri’s words had his eyes rapidly widening. Instantly he wondered if it was his own mind playing tricks on him, or if Victor really looked as intrigued by the idea as Yuuri thought he did.

“How about…” Victor put his arm tentatively over Yuuri’s shoulders to guide him down the hallway, “I go introduce you to Rufus, and we can decide when you are going to buy me coffee as a thank you.” Every place where Victor’s arm touched Yuuri’s shoulder felt like electricity sparking. He didn’t miss how well Yuuri fit under his arm or how beautiful Yuuri’s face looked every time he smiled. Victor contemplated how doomed he was to fall for the man at his side when Yuuri turned to smile directly at him. _Very doomed_ , he decided, pulling Yuuri further down the hallway to the sleeping Rufus.

“Let’s meet Rufus and discuss it over dog cuddles, okay?” Yuuri grinned, letting himself fall into step next to Victor, his disdain for being dragged to the party vanishing with every step. As they plopped down on either side of the dog, Yuuri reached out to gently rub his soft ears. Glancing back up at Victor, Yuuri couldn’t help the smile on his face while listening to Victor coo his adoration for the affectionate golden. Although he would never tell Phichit, he was definitely grateful to be exactly where he was.

Diners at midnight were generally reserved for refueling on nights when games and studying kept Yuuri and Phichit from making it to the dining hall before it closed its doors for the night. The diner right off campus did not serve the kind of coach-approved food which would fuel their success on the field, but it did offer milkshakes in oversized silver containers and fries with nine different toppings stacked on them. They also served coffee, if the person ordering it was brave enough to consume a substance close to jet fuel, which Yuuri had certainly been during every finals week of his college career.

The diner had been Yuuri’s idea after Victor had suggested leaving the party, neither of them bothering to locate their friends before doing so. Yuuri knew Phichit would let him know when it was safe to return to their apartment and he figured that Phichit had probably found his object of obsession within seconds of arriving at the party. He didn’t hesitate when Victor offered the joint exit, anxiously walking beside Victor as he led the way to his car.

It was his intention to offer to buy Victor coffee from the small café on the other side of campus. Located on the bottom floor of the library, the coffee cart and its adjoining tables stayed opened twenty-four hours a day, feeding the caffeine needs of undergrads and post-grads alike. Yuuri’s stomach had betrayed him though, growling loudly before he could make the reasonable recommendation of The Coffee Spot.

Yuuri’s tummy rumble had made Victor giggle into his hand as he had jogged around the side of his car. His own stomach felt viciously empty, a result of ignoring Chris’s direction to eat something in place of adding one more paragraph to his paper. Chris had hauled him out of the apartment by his belt loops, his cries about needing to eat falling on deaf ears. When Yuuri had shyly suggested the closest diner, Victor had happily jumped at the chance to spend a longer amount of time together.

The booth they had been pointed to was covered in cheap mauve plastic and the table was an unique shade of blue. Taking Yuuri’s advice regarding the food, Victor had ordered himself a strawberry milkshake along with a plate of loaded nachos. He would have to add reps to his workout the next day, but he decided that letting himself indulge a little wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially not when Yuuri excitedly offered that they could share each other’s choices.

Conversation hadn’t stalled since the moment Yuuri had thrown himself into Victor’s world, and Yuuri tried desperately to accept that fact without question. Victor was obviously smart, the way he spoke and carried himself was impressive, but he was also kind and funny in a strangely animated way. Yuuri could feel himself slipping toward impossibly attracted, his heart fluttering every time Victor touched his hand or arm while in the midst of a story.

Yuuri wasn’t talkative, but he wasn’t completely silent and Victor found the balance to be intriguing and instantaneously comfortable. At first assessment, Victor had believed Yuuri to be the same sort of academically narrow-minded nerd that Victor was, but every time he touched Yuuri’s shoulder or waist, he discovered well-defined muscles that made Victor feel like drooling. He wanted to ask Yuuri if he worked out, but couldn’t find a way to do so without sounding creepy. Instead, Victor let the natural flow of their words led them, finding himself relaxing more with every moment he spent sitting across from the adorable man.

A beep from his pocket had Victor pausing with a thoughtful furrow to his brow. Retrieving his phone, Victor unlocked it and immediately face-palmed. “Well it looks like I’m not allowed to go home tonight,” he grimaced at the number of peach, eggplant, and water squirt emojis that Christophe had accented his “definitely find somewhere else to be until at least noon tomorrow” text.

“Hmph,” Yuuri responded, sucking on the straw of his milkshake when his own phone buzzed against his leg. Suspicious, Yuuri leaned to allow himself access to his pocket, yanking the phone free and not bothering to unlock it to read Phichit’s message. The small bit he could see in the preview was all he needed to know.

“Well, my roommate isn’t coming home.” He missed the insinuation of his own statement until he glanced at Victor and saw Victor watching him with curious eyes. “Do you want to come hang out? Not in a creepy way!” Yuuri nearly knocked his milkshake over waving his hand as Victor chuckled into his own. “My apartment isn’t much, but we have a nice T.V. and we could watch a movie or something?”

Victor hummed, releasing his straw with a suggestive flick of his tongue. When Yuuri’s expression remained innocently open, Victor smiled. “I would love to!” He reached across the table and stole a French fry from Yuuri’s plate, grinning as Yuuri stole a nacho from his. Even if Yuuri truly meant that they would be watching a movie, Victor found that he was completely satisfied with the idea. Even being around Yuuri for a short amount of time had Victor’s heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

They split the bill evenly when it arrived, Victor arguing loudly that they were even for his earlier act as knight in shining armor since Yuuri was preventing him from sleeping in his car. Feeling brave, Victor reached down to lace his fingers with Yuuri’s as they headed back for his car, his heart skipping a beat when Yuuri tenderly squeezed them closer together.

Two movies had played in the background while Yuuri and Victor curled together on Yuuri’s worn-out canvas couch, talking through every important scene while they bodies meddled closer together. Victor was sprawled out across Yuuri’s chest, chin resting gently on Yuuri’s sternum as they discussed any random subject that came to mind. Victor had told Yuuri about his desire to own a dog one day and Yuuri had gotten misty-eyed talking about his own childhood pet. They had spent ten minutes discussing how cute Rufus was, and Yuuri was jokingly jealous when Victor told him about pet-sitting for Rufus over winter break.

They fell into a rhythm that was natural, leaving them both relaxed and happy while smushed together on Yuuri’s small couch. Time fell away, the hours passing by them unnoticed until the faintest hint of light began to leak in through Yuuri’s blinds. “Oh!” Yuuri exclaimed, suddenly pushing Victor up from his place over Yuuri’s body. “Can I show you something?” Standing from the couch, he offered Victor his hand.

Nodding happily, Victor let Yuuri pull him to his feet, hesitating only for a second when Yuuri began to escort him toward the door. For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri was going to lead him into the bedroom, and he tried to push away his disappointment as Yuuri slipped on his shoes and nudged Victor’s shoes toward his own socked feet. Obliging with the silent request, Victor followed Yuuri from the apartment, confusion building as Yuuri led him toward the back of the hallway and through a metal door.

Yuuri had discovered the way onto the roof on day when Phichit’s family had been visiting. Although the Chulanonts were incredibly loving, Yuuri had been overwhelmed by the eight extra people in his apartment and fled. He had stumbled upon this staircase by accident, failing to turn left at the end of the hall to follow the stairs which led to each floor of the building. Instead, he had run forward, crashing through the metal door which matched the color of the hallway walls.

Metal stairs led up to the roof, another heavy door standing at their exit. Carefully, Yuuri pushed the door open, stooping to retrieve the door stopper and wedging it into place. Never releasing Victor’s hand, Yuuri tugged him toward a narrow bench surrounded by flowers and veggies growing from overly large planters.

“Yuuri?” Victor questioned, coming to stop at Yuuri’s side in the middle of the thriving garden. Around them the world hinted of sunrise, colors beginning to burst over the distant horizon.

“I come here to think sometimes,” Yuuri remarked, eyes trained to the distance, watching as the sun returned rainbows of light to the world. “I thought… maybe…” Yuuri turned slightly to look up at Victor, his heart thundering in his chest as he found Victor already looking at him. “The sunrise is beautiful up here.” Licking his lips, Yuuri felt his eyes flutter as Victor’s fingertips grazed his cheek.

“Yeah… it is…” Victor whispered, feeling lost in the moment, his own mind racing as he formed his next thought. “Yuuri, can I…”

“Yes,” Yuuri responded, not waiting for Victor’s question to be complete. Pushing himself up on his toes, Yuuri met Victor halfway in a kiss.

Around them, the world was illuminated with the promise of a new day.

Victor drove back to his apartment with all of his windows down and his radio far too loud for the hour in which he was cruising through their small college town. He felt light and happy, the feeling of Yuuri still on his lips as he pulled his car into his parking spot. Nothing, not even the sight of Chris making out with his half-naked new boyfriend in the middle of their kitchen, could have derailed Victor’s mood.

Or so he thought.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Victor stared at Chris with wide eyes. His roommate had failed to put on a t-shirt, but the scratches on Chris’s back and the hickeys littering his chest were the least concerning sights in Victor’s eye line. Dangling from Chris’s fingertips was a full size poster of Yuuri, standing with his helmet under one arm and lacrosse stick with some sort of padding hanging from it resting casually over his shoulder. Yuuri’s glasses were missing, replaced by a squinted look of pure determination that was sending all of the blood in Victor’s head rushing to his smaller one. Shifting in his seat, Victor raised a hand toward the poster.

“If you think this is hot,” Chris spread the poster over their kitchen table, wicked grin flashing in Victor’s direction, “Wait until I show you the calendar.”

“I can’t…” Victor let his fingertips trail over the glossy paper, his heart doing a funny dance in his chest. The Yuuri he had spent all of the previous night with, talking, laughing, and kissing, was soft and comfy, adorable with his ever-sliding glasses and floppy hair. The Yuuri in front of him, posed to both intimidate _and_ arouse, was made of wet dream material. Victor took a deep breath and tried again. “I can’t believe this is him.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Chris flopped into the nearest chair. “Honestly Victor, these posters are everywhere. You are working on your PhD… in sports medicine… how oblivious are you?” Chris chuckled when Victor turned a wounded look his way. “Well, you managed to snag the university’s most sought after bachelor, and from what I hear, you are the first one to ever do so. Want to tell me how that happened?”

Still dazed and confused from the information being thrown at his sleep-deprived mind, Victor launched into the description of how he went to pet Rufus and ended up giving his heart away to the campus’s most popular athlete.

“Yuuri!! Ohhhhh Yuuuuuuurrriiii!!!” Phichit’s cheerful voice carried through the apartment making Yuuri moan and bury his head under his pillow.

He had stayed on the roof with Victor until their sleepiness had caused them to begin to doze off between kisses. Laughing at their own exhaustion, they made their way down to Victor’s car, exchanging sleepy kisses until Yuuri had literally dropped his head onto Victor’s shoulder with a loud snore. With a new number in his phone and tingling happiness on his lips, Yuuri had collapsed into his bed.

Slapping out to find his phone, Yuuri smiled at the good morning message from Victor. Shooting one back, he quickly jammed his phone under his pillow as Phichit burst into his room and dived onto his bed.

“I had the best night,” Phichit rolled onto his back, bringing one arm up to brace under his head.

Yuuri leaned forward to poke the prominent bruise on Phichit’s neck. “Looks like it,” Yuuri laughed when Phichit wiggled his eyebrows.

“And what about you?” Phichit turned a sly smile in Yuuri’s direction, making Yuuri’s stomach immediately drop. “Chris’s roommate showed up a little after eight, smiling like a cat that got the creamer and repeatedly saying a very familiar name.”

“Victor is cat boy’s roommate?” Yuuri sat up abruptly, feeling his head throb slightly from his lack of sleep. It would absolutely be his luck that Phichit would have already drilled Victor for details and mercilessly scrutinized Victor before Yuuri could even ask him out on a proper date.

“Yup!” Phichit moved into a sitting position and Yuuri tried to ignore his best friend’s wince and readjustment of his backend. “And he is totally in looooovvveeee with you.” Poking Yuuri on the nose, Phichit laughed as Yuuri blushed. “So when are you going to ask him to wear your jersey?”

Ears still ringing from Phichit’s love comment, Yuuri shook his head and stared at Phichit blankly. “Ask him to do what?” Processing Phichit’s statement by the end of his own question, Yuuri shook his head. “That’s not… that’s not something I would ask him to do.”

“Oh come on Yuuri, I’m going to ask Chris to wear mine at our next home game. And I don’t even get to play because of you,” Phichit stuck his tongue out at Yuuri to emphasize his joke. “You should give yours to Victor so he can wear it too. I’m sure they’ll probably sit together.”

Realization leaked into Yuuri’s mind as he quickly reviewed all of the hours of conversation between himself and Victor the night before. They had talked about their majors, Yuuri spending probably an obnoxious amount of time asking questions about Victor’s thesis, and Yuuri knew he had mentioned being on scholarship. What he was absolutely positive he had forgotten to mention was that his scholarship had nothing to do with his academic major. “Ummm… Phichit…” Yuuri shrugged at the exasperated face of his best friend, throwing himself back on his pillow.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Phichit scolded, reaching down to shake his best friend’s shoulders. “You failed to tell Victor you play lacrosse. I guess that means you failed to mention anything else about it… like how you are the number one player. In the country.” Falling back with hysterical laughter as Yuuri grumbled from his hiding place in his pillow, Phichit wrapped his arms around his waist. “Holy shit, my friend, you are ridiculous. You can’t hide it, your face is plastered on posters all over campus! Why the hell didn’t you just say something?”

Burrowing further into his pillow, Yuuri refused to answer. There had never been an opportunity for Yuuri to casually mention that he was the main face of the entire campus sports program and Victor had never mentioned recognizing him, so Yuuri had simply not brought it up. He had been through enough of his college life dealing with people who wanted to get close to him solely because of his supposed fame, and the selfish part of him didn’t want Victor to be one of those people.

Letting Phichit’s laughter be drowned out by the pillow shoved over his head, Yuuri prayed that Victor would still be interested in him when he found out about the other half of Yuuri’s life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double dates and revelations... death glares and extra laps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters decided their story needed to be a little longer than anticipated so the chapter count went up by one ;) 
> 
> Please go check out the incredible art for this fic, created by my wonderful partner [aetgart aka katsukifatale](http://aetgart.tumblr.com) in collaboration for the [2018 Viktuuri Reverse Bang](http://yurionicebigbang.tumblr.com)! Lots of wonderful stories have been posted, so please visit the bang blog to support all of the creators involved!

Three days had passed since Victor had stumbled into his apartment a sleepy happy mess of a man.

Three breakfasts had been consumed since Chris had smugly revealed the other side of Yuuri, leaving Victor confused and hornier than he cared to admit.

Three afternoons had rolled past since Victor had snagged the calendar from Chris’s fingers, expertly tearing the month of April from the spiral rings and sprinting from their living room to evade Chris’s attempts to recollect the page.

Three hundred texts had been sent and received, some taking up the entirety of the character limit, a steady flow of jokes and near-hourly updates between Victor and the man he had already fallen for.

Sometime around message fifty, Victor had decided to leave the topic of Yuuri’s athletic popularity alone. Ignoring Chris’s voice in his head, Victor had decided that Yuuri either didn’t want Victor to know about his position as the country’s leading male lacrosse player (Victor may have googled a thing or two) _or_ Yuuri believed that Victor was already aware of the information and found it not important enough to mention. Victor wasn’t particularly pleased with either possibility, but he was over-the-moon happy with how easy and wonderful it was to experience the connection he shared with Yuuri. If building their relationship meant blindly trusting a theoretical list of Yuuri’s potential reasons for not addressing the topic, Victor could easily resolve to do just that.

His phone was currently quiet, in a way it had rarely been over the past few days. Falling asleep to Yuuri’s messages and waking up to Yuuri’s adorably misspelled morning texts had vastly improved the quality of Victor’s moods. He had restrained himself from asking Yuuri about his consistently early morning hours, relieving his own curiosity by obtaining the training schedule for the lacrosse team from the folder in the file cabinet in Dr. Feltsman’s office. His boss and mentor had only lifted a silently inquisitive eyebrow when he found Victor copying the schedule, muttering under his breath about not wanting to know. Victor guiltily stuffed the photocopy into his bag, shoving the folder back into its place and hustling from the building in order to avoid being around when Yuuri’s team returned from practice.

Part of accepting his forced naiveté about Yuuri’s life meant not allowing himself to accidentally bump into Yuuri at the training facility. It was nearly unbearable to force his feet to leave the building, especially when he hadn’t seen Yuuri since they had said goodbye on Sunday morning and he knew that a delay of mere minutes could resolve the yearning lingering in Victor’s heart. Resigning himself to continued torture, Victor jogged toward his car.

The drive to his shared apartment with Chris was a short one. Their town was small and most of the decent apartments were housed on the outskirts of campus. Smiling as he heard his text alert beep in his pocket, Victor safely parked his car before retrieving his phone and laughing at the gif of a sleeping panda that Yuuri had sent him. Finding a gif of two pandas cuddling, Victor quickly sent it back and hummed happily to himself as he jogged up the stairs to his apartment.

Slipping his phone into his pocket with one hand and unlocking the door with the other, Victor sniffed the air as the door swung open, sighing happily when the scent of Chris’s famous boeuf bourguignon floated through the air to greet him. Kicking his shoes off, Victor hung his keys on the hook by the door and quickly moved to stow his bag in his bedroom before returning to the kitchen. “Smells great,” he commented, leaning over the pot to cautiously dip a finger toward the boiling contents. He snapped his hand back when Chris smacked it with a spoon.

“No stealing!” Chris scolded, swatting Victor again on his hip and nudging him away from the stove. “We have company coming and you are in charge of setting the table.” Flipping the edge of his apron into his hand, Chris bent to open the oven, sliding a tray of perfectly braided mini buns out onto the available space on the stove.

Confused, Victor blinked silently in Chris’s direction, eyes finally traveling to the stack of four bowls, spoons and tiny plates next to their sink. Suspicion mounting, Victor hesitantly lifted the pile of dishes and silverware, circling around Chris to place them on the table. “Who exactly is coming to dinner?” With an eyebrow raised in Chris’s direction, Victor began to set the bowls in front of each of their four chairs.

“Phichit and Yuuri,” Chris responded, sparing a fleeting glance in Victor’s direction and smirking at Victor’s further confusion. “Yuuri doesn’t know it yet, so it isn’t like he hid it from you. They are coming straight from practice.”

Victor groaned, abandoning his job and flopping into the closest chair. “I haven’t said anything to him… about… you know…” Victor flailed his hands when Chris gave him a disapproving look over the stove. “He has to have a reason he didn’t say anything. I want to respect that!” _Also_ , Victor thought trying to school his facial expression into something casual, _there was still a chance that Yuuri assumed he knew_. There was no way he was going to make himself look like an idiot by saying differently and he banged his head on the table to try to rid his brain of his own stupidity.

“That’s sweet actually,” Chris opined, sliding his homemade bread buns into a basket. “It also prevents him from finding out that you are a clueless moron.” His laughter was deep and amused when Victor groaned into another round of light head banging. “Enough of that,” Chris commanded, placing the basket of bread on the table and hauling Victor back to his feet by his shirt collar. “They will be here soon, make sure this table looks nice! We have boyfriends to impress!”

Victor felt his heart stutter on Chris’s use of the word _boyfriend_. He certainly wanted Yuuri to be his boyfriend, but he had spent every minute since Sunday morning trying to convince himself it was too soon for a label of that nature.

Rearranging the table settings at each chair, Victor let his mind hope that maybe he was wrong in his assessment. He smiled at his own excitedly shaking hands, his pathetically sappy hope soaring that maybe after tonight the title of boyfriend would be his own.

Hot water ran over Yuuri’s bare shoulders making him groan into the heated relief. His muscles ached as he rolled them under the water, desperate for any hint of reprieve that he could chase down under the burning shower. Hands filled with shampoo, Yuuri shoved them into his hair and scratched roughly against his scalp trying to rid the strands of caked on sweat and clumps of dirt. His shoulders protested his movements, making him bite back a groan as he scrubbed at his skin. Around him, the teasing shouts and boisterous conversation of the locker room faded into white noise.

Soap ran down Yuuri’s face, his mind racing as he replayed each minute of practice. He had convinced their attackers to give him everything they had, encouraging Phichit to taunt their teammates into releasing their most unbridled attacks. Yuuri had become a wall, blocking each and every shot, his body and stick working as one unit to prevent any of the flung balls from striking the net.

Two weeks stood between his team and the championship series. They had two regular season games left and with their current record, they would be heading into the final tournament at the top spot. Everyone credited their winning streak to Yuuri’s impenetrable defenses at the net, but Yuuri constantly reminded all of the players that they were a team. Games couldn’t be won by blocked shots alone, and Yuuri emphasized this, as much for his own sanity as for the confidence of his teammates.

Still, Yuuri felt the pressure to win sinking deep into his stomach, swirled with the knowledge that his team had yet to lose a game since he had joined them in his freshman year. With each passing season, with each game added to the winning tally, Yuuri could feel the intensity of the streak thrumming in his veins. One goal could be the end of it all and Yuuri tried to force this thought away as he slammed his hand down to turn off the shower.

Swiftly toweling off his body, Yuuri wrapped the damp terry cloth around his waist and flung a second towel over his shoulders to catch the droplets dripping from his mop of tangled hair. His hair had been steadily growing since the beginning of the team’s winning streak and he didn’t have the courage to cut it while the streak was still going. Padding his barefoot way back to his locker, Yuuri silently pulled his most comfortable sweats from the folded pile on his top shelf.

“No way,” Phichit slapped the sweats out of Yuuri’s hand, chuckling when Yuuri cussed. “I made plans for us and you cannot go looking like you do when you zombie into the dining hall moaning for coffee.” Retrieving his own clothes, Phichit pulled on clean briefs before hopping into a fresh pair of jeans.

Yuuri watched the action with a look of exhausted trepidation. “Phichit, I don’t have anything else with me and I’m tired.” Sinking down onto the bench, Yuuri lazily worked his own briefs up his still damp legs, yanking the towel from his waist and tossing it toward the closest laundry hamper. “I want to go raid the dining hall for tater tots and then collapse face down in my bed. No exceptions.”

“Yes exceptions,” peering at his own reflection in the mirror suspended in his locker, Phichit ran a comb through his hair. “Cute exceptions. Chris and Victor are making us dinner.”

Yuuri counted himself lucky that he didn’t fall backwards off of the bench. He had been steadily exchanging text messages with Victor over the last few days, but the idea of seeing him again had Yuuri feeling flustered. His heart danced with butterflies while his stomach churned with uncertainty. Although Phichit refused to confirm his suspicions, Yuuri was almost positive that some sort of discussion had gone down about Yuuri’s role on the school’s lacrosse team. Victor had never said anything outright, but he also conveniently never asked what Yuuri was up to during the hours directly before, during and after Yuuri’s practices.

When he remained silent for too long, Phichit smacked him in the face with a towel. “Come on, it’ll be fun. We could both use a little smooching to distract us from the looming doom of the tournament. And Chris is supposedly a great cook.”

Blinking, Yuuri stared up at Phichit and then back down at his own mostly naked body. “You won’t let me wear my clothes,” Yuuri stated, sounding incredibly forlorn over his own words.

Snorting, Phichit slammed his locker shut, tossing his towel in the hamper and moving to the end of their locker row. “Leroy!” he yelled, rolling his eyes at Yuuri’s squawked protest. When JJ’s cocky smile appeared around the corner, Yuuri felt his stomach roll for a different reason.

“What can I do for you, P?” JJ ran a hand through his hair, still strutting around shirtless despite being the first one out of the showers.

“Do you still have a plethora of spare clothes in your locker?” Phichit threw a nod over his shoulder directing JJ’s inquiring look toward Yuuri. “Our star player seems to think sweatpants are appropriate date material.”

Scoffing, JJ shook his head disapprovingly at Yuuri. “Never fear, JJ style is here!”

“Pick something hot!” Phichit yelled, winking in Yuuri’s direction. Disappearing around the locker, JJ missed Phichit turning to Yuuri with his hands in a mocking gesture of JJ’s signature move. As Yuuri laughed from his place on the bench, a mixture of nerves and amusement, he reached for his deodorant and cologne. If he had to dress like JJ at least he could smell like himself.

“Everything I own is hot,” JJ belatedly argued, presenting a pair of ripped jeans and a fitted black t-shirt into Phichit’s arms. “This is all I have that will stand a chance of fitting our all-star. Hot date?” Crossing his arms over his bare chest, JJ leaned on the locker to aim his question in Yuuri’s direction.

“Yes,” Phichit answered for him, wrestling the black t-shirt over Yuuri’s head. He laughed again when Yuuri scrambled away from him, snagging the jeans from the bench and shoving his legs in them before Phichit tried to put them on Yuuri as well.

The legs were comically long, hanging beyond Yuuri’s feet despite the decent fit of the fabric over the muscles of Yuuri’s thighs and backside. Flopping his feet back and forth, Yuuri pouted like a toddler, glaring in Phichit’s direction. He remained unamused as Phichit dropped to the floor, grabbing Yuuri’s ankle and forcing him to hold still. With skilled fingers, Phichit rolled each leg of the jeans to expose the bone of each of Yuuri’s ankles.

“Rolled jeans are a good look on you, Katsuki,” JJ slapped a hand on Yuuri’s back. “Have a good night,” tossing a set of j’s formed by his fingers in front of his chest, JJ grinned when Phichit returned the gesture.

“Why do you encourage him?” Yuuri asked, making sure JJ was out of earshot before broaching the question. Leaning down, he pulled on his socks, folding them down to be under his heel before slipping on his shoes.

“Because he’s a fellow freshman,” Phichit tossed his bag on the bench and zipped it closed. “And really, he is a nice guy, a little immature, but hopefully he’ll grow out of it. His enthusiasm is good for team morale.”

“Whatever you say,” Yuuri rested his own bag strap on his shoulder, turning to snag his stick from its resting spot. His helmet and pads would hang on the rack to dry while his practice jersey would get a whirl through the team laundry facilities. He never left his stick behind though and as he rolled it between his hands, a thought crushed the excitement that had been gradually building inside of him. “We have to go home first.”

“No time,” Phichit grabbed his own stick, clicking it playfully against Yuuri’s and leading the way out of their row of lockers. “I’ve got mine too so it won’t be a big deal.”

“But Phichit… I still haven’t…” Yuuri trailed off, eyes falling to the ground when Phichit fired a judgmental look in his direction. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to tell Victor, it had simply become awkward to now mention the fact that Yuuri had an additional portion of his life that required attention. Topped with his suspicions about what Chris or Phichit might have said, Yuuri had opted for silence instead of the evitable awkwardness of trying to interject the information at this point.

“Well, consider the stick an ice breaker then,” pushing from the locker room’s swinging doors, Phichit took a sharp left to head out of the training facility. “It’s going to be really hard to ignore when you show up at his apartment with your big stick. And your lacrosse stick too.” Laughter rippled through Phichit as Yuuri batted him on the back of the head with the net of his stick.

“Promise me you won’t make jokes like that at dinner?” Yuuri could feel the nerves beginning to crawl under his skin and his roommate’s incessant teasing was doing nothing to relax him.

“Not a chance,” Phichit declared happily, linking his arm with Yuuri’s and pulling him in the direction of a hot meal and even hotter men.

Trying to sort out what he could possibly say to Victor, Yuuri let himself be led across campus, joined at the hip with the world’s most talented instigator.

A knock on the door had Victor’s head shooting up from where he had tried to bury himself in a book. He had definitely read the same page several times while determinedly tuning out Chris’s cheerful singing in the kitchen. Most of Victor was incredibly excited to see Yuuri again, but there was a persistent part of him that was worried their chemistry had been a fluke. Most people, with the exception of Chris and Dr. Feltsman, tired of him easily and Victor had felt the fear growing inside him that the same would happen with Yuuri.

Unfolding his legs and delicately replacing his bookmark, Victor reached the door at the same time as Chris. Letting Chris do the honors, Victor stepped to the side, appreciative of his own foresight as a body launched into Chris’s arms with surprising force.

“My boyfriend,” Chris cooed, planting little kisses over Phichit’s face to make him giggle. “Want to come see the fabulous dinner I made for you?” Relieving Phichit of his bag and lacrosse stick, Chris snaked an arm around Phichit’s waist to guide him toward the kitchen.

Shyly, Yuuri peeked at Victor from the doorway. “Hi,” Victor said, reaching forward to grab the strap of Yuuri’s bag. His cheeks flushed when he realized how breathless he sounded. “Come in,” Victor eased the bag from Yuuri’s shoulder and then reached for the stick in his hand. “I can take this too.” Subconsciously pausing to gently cradle the stick in his hand, a quick flash of the poster Chris had of Yuuri leaning on the stick drinking a glass of milk had Victor almost dropping the rod of metal on the ground. “So, um, you play…?”

“Uh… lacrosse. Yeah I kind of do,” Yuuri shrugged, stepping further into the heavenly fragranced apartment and using the excuse of closing the door to avoid Victor’s eyes. His ears burned as he heard Phichit yell “kind of do, this guy!” from wherever he had vanished to.

“Do you think…” Victor trailed off, losing his train of a thought for a moment as he took in Yuuri’s muscular build beneath the tight jeans and even tighter t-shirt. It was enough to leave Victor’s tongue tied. Fingers still curled around the stick, Victor lifted it in the air. “Do you think I could see you play with it sometime? Uh… your stick, I mean.”

“Oh my God,” came Phichit’s voice from the hidden part of the kitchen and Victor winced with his own awkwardness. Poking his head through the doorway, Phichit looked exasperated. “We have a game on Saturday, you should come to that.” Ducking away again, they distinctly heard Phichit defensively say, “I am trying to help, they are killing me.”

The last two words of Phichit’s sentence were muffled and Yuuri could only guess what Chris had decided to do to shut him up. Shuffling his feet, Yuuri bit his bottom lip and considered Victor from under his eyelashes. “It would be nice… you know… if you wanted to come. No pressure though!” Raising his hands, Yuuri waved them back and forth with a swift shake of his head.

“I’ll be there,” Victor smiled, taking a tentative step forward and reaching out to run a hand through Yuuri’s damp hair. Chickening out on kissing Yuuri, Victor settled for a quick hug, jumping back when Chris shouted “dinner!” from the kitchen. Linking his hand with Yuuri’s Victor smiled as Yuuri’s head rested against his shoulder. Awkwardness aside, Victor felt himself begin to settle with Yuuri by his side, a feeling that he cherished and feared in equal measure. Convincing himself to simply enjoy the moment, Victor took a step toward the dining room, slipping a sneaky kiss against Yuuri’s hair as they walked.

Dinner had been surprisingly relaxed, conversation flowing through the four of them without pause or stuttered rhythm. Seamlessly they had transitioned into playing cards, Chris picking the most inappropriate game he could find in their small stack and Yuuri shocking them all by playing the crudest and most hilarious combinations.

By the time the black and white cards had been rehomed in their box, Victor’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life that he had felt so relaxed, the stress of his job, thesis, and school feeling incredibly far away at the moment. His arm tingled where it rested around Yuuri’s shoulders and he couldn’t help the stupidly giddy smile on his face as he peered down into Yuuri’s flushed cheeks and breathtaking smile.

“You know,” Phichit piped up from his place on Chris’s lap. “Someone should really do all those dishes.” Yuuri recognized Phichit’s tone of voice, tearing his gaze away from alternating between Victor’s lips and his eyes to level a suspicious look toward his roommate. “Obviously, Chris _shouldn’t_ do them because he cooked. And I _can’t_ do them because I don’t know where anything goes…”

“Yuuri and I can handle the dishes,” Victor lowered his arm from its place around Yuuri and stood. For some reason the idea of sudsy bubbles and domestic chores with Yuuri was pulling steadily at his already lovesick heart. He grinned when Yuuri nodded, worrying slightly about the cautious glare Yuuri was still aiming in Phichit’s direction.

“Good,” Phichit agreed, sliding from Chris’s lap. “And I’ll help you,” hooking a finger in between the buttons of Chris’s shirt, Phichit pulled him to his feet, “unmake your bed.”

“Remember we have practice!” Yuuri yelled in vain, shaking his head as Phichit blatantly ignored him, laughing with Chris as they disappeared down the hallway.

“Your friend is really something,” Victor commented, tugging lightly on Yuuri’s belt loop before releasing his hold and rounding the counter toward the sink. “I think Chris may have finally met his match.”

Following Victor, Yuuri chuckled. “Phichit had a crush on Chris for forever. Last semester was torture trying to survive all the pining.” He nudged Victor with his hip, taking a place in front of the sink and flicking on the faucet. Carefully, he drizzled soap onto a sponge and set about scrubbing the dishes piled in front of him.

Yuuri’s forearm muscles flexed with each dish he maneuvered, making Victor’s throat feel dry. The tightness of Yuuri’s black shirt had been plaguing Victor’s self-restraint all night, and he had slipped more than a few times, running his fingers over the powerful muscles of Yuuri’s back whenever he had even the slightest excuse to do so. The slickness of Yuuri’s skin paired with the sweetness of his voice had Victor distracted and he fumbled the plate Yuuri placed in his hands to dry. Laughing sheepishly, Victor avoided Yuuri’s eye contact, quickly redirecting his concentration to the towel in his hands.

There was something about Victor’s blush that made Yuuri want to kiss every inch of it. Every time Victor had touched him throughout the night, Yuuri had felt caught between sighing into the comfort and feeling electrified. Normally he shied away from physical contact, reserving it only for the people he was closest too, but he found himself craving it from Victor. Sneaking a glance to the side, Yuuri caught Victor’s eye and smiled, handing him another plate and letting his fingers linger over Victor’s hand for an exaggerated moment. Eyes flicking down to Victor’s lips, Yuuri felt compelled to lean forward, pulled by an unmistakable need to kiss Victor again.

A loud moan had them both jumping, noses clipping each other as they looked in the direction of the hallway. Bursting into uncomfortable giggles, Yuuri raised a hand to stifle his laughter, accidentally covering his nose in bubbles.

Victor’s brain melted at the adorable sight of Yuuri’s bubble-covered nose. In the midst of his own chuckles, he reached up to brush away the suds. His jaw dropped open in shock when Yuuri shifted and covered Victor’s face in bubbles instead. “Oh, it’s on now,” he laughed, reaching into the sink and scooping up a handful of bubbles to dump them into Yuuri’s hair. He laughingly slumped against the counter, leaning forward to clutch his stomach in reaction to Yuuri’s offended squawk.

Narrowing his eyes, Yuuri grabbed a handful of bubbles and raised it in Victor’s direction. He released another shocked noise when Victor snagged his wrist, holding it straight up in the air and bringing their chests flushed together. This close, Yuuri could feel Victor’s heartbeat racing against his own and without thinking he let his free hand reach to squeeze Victor’s waist. Tipping his chin up, Yuuri tested his own confidence by innocently cocking his head to the side. “Can I help you with something?” he teased, his heart hammering faster when Victor’s eyes left his to focus on his lips.

“God, you’re cute,” Victor whispered, giving up any chance he had at resisting the man in front of him. Dipping his head, Victor went for the kiss he had been desiring from the moment Yuuri had stepped through his door.

Yuuri felt the tension leaking from his body, sensation spindling out from every point where Victor was pressed against him. They fit so perfectly together, even leaning at an odd angle against the kitchen counter, and Yuuri felt his head begin to spin with all the desires his body was beginning to register at once. He could barely connect his thoughts beyond the feeling of Victor, almost missing the loosening of Victor’s grip on his wrist. Feeling his raised arm drop a fraction of distance, Yuuri smiled into their kiss, sneakily lowering his hand and pressing the palm full of bubbles against Victor’s cheek.

Breaking the kiss, Victor looked at Yuuri in playful shock, growling in mock anger as Yuuri stepped back with his hands in the air. “Now we’re even!” Yuuri determined, continuing to walk backwards out of the kitchen, refusing to turn his back on Victor. He yelped as Victor sprang toward him, hands scrambling over Victor’s back when Victor threw him over his shoulder. Yuuri wasn’t light, but Victor found that carrying Yuuri over his shoulder was oddly satisfying to a very primal part of him. Without giving it much thought, Victor carried Yuuri through the door of his bedroom, tossing him down in the middle of Victor’s bed.

Shock and a slight sense of fear zinged through Yuuri’s mind. He wouldn’t deny that he had been aroused by kissing Victor, but he was taken back by suddenness of Victor’s actions. Curling his fists in the sheets, he tried to convince himself to breathe, reminding himself that they were playing and not racing toward anything more. With a shaky smile, he looked around Victor’s bedroom trying to find something to comment on and coming up remarkably empty. The room was perfectly clean and simply furnished.

“It’s… uh… not much…” Victor regretted his decision to drag Yuuri into his private space, realizing too late how little personality his room held. The rest of their apartment was filled with touches of Chris, but Victor’s room was extremely utilitarian, used for studying and sleeping and not much else. Other than his bookshelf of alphabetized books and the corkboard which held the framework notes and cards of his thesis, there was nothing that specifically spoke to Victor’s life at all. The space was almost clinical in its tidiness and Victor felt himself flushing as he watched Yuuri take it in.

Honing in on the board tacked to the far wall, Yuuri scooted across the bed to peer at Victor’s carefully penned index cards. “Is that for your thesis?” Yuuri asked, nodding in the direction of the board before pushing off the bed and leaning in for a closer look. “Victor, these are like a work of art.” He meant it too; each card was written in multiple colors and created a cascading pattern across the board, the points stair-stepping each other as they built toward Victor’s final analysis. Even in note form, the concept was incredible and Yuuri turned wide eyes to Victor. “I want to know everything.”

Victor’s heart melted in his chest at the genuine interest in Yuuri’s expression. He had worked so hard to perfect his research and wanted nothing more than to share his ideas with someone. Unfortunately, Chris’s eyes glazed over as soon as Victor started talking muscle groups and his fellow doctoral candidates were all too focused on their own studies to listen to Victor ramble about his. Realizing he had been silent for far too many seconds, Victor cleared his throat. “I would love to tell you if-”

“Please,” Yuuri cut Victor off, wanting to cease whatever doubt Victor had in his mind about Yuuri’s sincerity. Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers into Victor’s and tugged him to sit on the edge of the bed. Pointing to one card with dark orange writing, Yuuri smiled up at Victor. “Start here and tell me everything.”

Stealing a quick kiss, Victor settled against Yuuri’s side, wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s waist and excitedly bouncing as he started from the beginning.

Thunderous clapping made the world around Yuuri shake, stomping feet and a crowd chanting his name created a swell of overwhelming noise around him. Alone on the field, he stared down an opposing team, comprised not of collegiate players but of angry demons glaring at him with glinting red eyes. He couldn’t breathe, his fingers slipping inside of his gloves as they advanced on him, each of them cradling a ball and looking to destroy him from multiple directions. He couldn’t stop them all and the screams from the crowd told him that the fans knew it as well. A black hole opened beneath his feet, causing him to stumble back into the net and flail as it wrapped around him, smothering him with its looped strands.

An unfamiliar song broke through Yuuri’s dream, vibrating over the field and filtering in light with a steady stream of Yuuri’s name. The voice calling him was familiar and Yuuri struggled against the net tightening against his pads to locate his potential savior.

“Yuuri!” Victor rubbed Yuuri’s back, feeling the pressure of Yuuri’s arms crushing around him. He had been awoken when Yuuri whimpered against his clothed chest, his consciousness snapping completely awake at the sound of his alarm mixed with the increasingly distressed sounds Yuuri was making. “Yuuri, it’s ok! Wake up!” He wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so Victor settled on rubbing Yuuri’s back with one hand and shaking his shoulder with the other.

Eyes fluttering open, Yuuri sat up, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings. Registering Victor speaking from behind him, Yuuri slowly twisted to look down at his boyfriend.

They had decided to take a chance on the title upgrade somewhere between Victor’s detailed outline of his thesis and Yuuri’s barrage of follow up questions. It had been Victor’s prompting, blurting out “would you want to be my boyfriend?” in the middle of another detailed question from Yuuri, which had started the conversation and Yuuri’s stunned but delighted “yes!” that had cemented it. They had fallen into each other after the decision, curling together in the middle of Victor’s bed to exchange sweet kisses and loving cuddles.

Peering down at Victor now, Yuuri couldn’t help the smile spreading over his face, the memory of his nightmare evaporating as his vision was filled with the adorably rumpled sight of his boyfriend. Victor’s bed head was endearing and his button down shirt was wrinkled from having Yuuri’s face pressed against it. There was a warmth spreading through Yuuri, despite his nightmare, simply from waking up in the morning next to Victor.

The morning.

Throwing himself from the bed, Yuuri stumbled toward the window, processing the unusual amount of light for his normal waking hour. Yanking his phone from his pocket, he screeched. From down the hallway, he heard a similar reaction.

Racing into the hallway, Yuuri crashed into Phichit who looked equally as panicked. “We’re late!” They screamed in unison, slamming their shoulders together and groaning as they sprinted toward the door, hopping into their shoes and banging out of the apartment with their bags and sticks flailing into the air as they ran.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Chris looked over his shoulder smirking as Victor flopped into his own doorway. “They are going to have to run a lot of laps because of us.”

Victor heard a hint of pride in Chris’s statement, shaking his head in confusion. He loved falling asleep to the sound of Yuuri’s sleepy breathing, the weight of Yuuri across his body had given Victor the best night’s sleep he could ever remember having. Unfortunately, it seemed that it would also lead to Yuuri being reprimanded. He didn’t know anything about the way Coach Celestino ran his team, but Chris’s statement stayed with him even after the man himself had vanished into the shower.

Quickly changing his clothes, Victor gathered his bag and made his way toward the closest coffee shop, determined to make it to the doors of the locker room before the end of Yuuri’s practice. He could only hope that Yuuri wouldn’t regret their night together after whatever punishment he had to endure because of it.

“Fifteen laps,” Yuuri collapsed onto the closest bench, his whole body exhausted from running the field with the sun too high in the sky for comfort. Morning practice was never his favorite, but this morning’s had been absolutely brutal.

“At least you didn’t have to do it with a sore ass,” Phichit remarked, lowering himself gingerly to the bench and groaning. Slyly he poked Yuuri with his toe, “or maybe I shouldn’t assume…”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Yuuri threatened, smacking a lazy hand against Phichit’s bare calf. “We aren’t there yet,” he said simply, cutting off Phichit’s predictable follow up question. His face burned with where his mind had wandered, Phichit’s innuendo waking up a part of Yuuri’s brain that he didn’t need spurred right before he hit the team showers.

“Showers, boys!” Celestino shouted, his smirk almost evil when he spied his goalies sprawled over the bench. “Next time, we’ll be on time, right gentleman?” He laughed as Yuuri and Phichit agreed with matching groans.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Yuuri found himself lost in his thoughts under the water. Being late and rushing to the field had kept his mind from returning to his nightmare, the stress of practice and the remaining high of his night with Victor were also excellent barriers to the dark fear which had bred the evil thoughts. Now, as the exhaustion from practice settled into his bones and the exhilaration of adrenaline still spun through his mind, Yuuri could feel the lurking monsters trying to push forward in his mind. Shoving his face under the steady stream, Yuuri fought them back, concentrating on the mental image of Victor’s messy bedhead and sleepy morning smile.

Nervously, Victor paced in front of the locker room doors. He could have easily walked in, and had on occasion when immediate evaluation of an injury was required, but somehow he felt like he would be violating Yuuri’s privacy. They didn’t have time to discuss their accidental sleepover and it had left Victor with an unnerving sense of desperation. Clutching a cup of coffee in each hand, Victor spun around at the sound of familiar voices coming closer.

“I still say it was worth it,” Phichit argued, nudging Yuuri’s shoulder to emphasize his point. Yuuri smiled at his feet, his cheeks feeling warm as he nodded his head in agreement. Even though he could feel every step he took like a vibrating wave of fatigue washing through his body, he couldn’t convince himself to regret the night. “Seems that someone else would agree as well,” Phichit commented, nudging Yuuri again and nodding ahead of them.

The flutters in Yuuri’s stomach were undeniable as he spotted Victor anxiously bouncing on his toes, increasing exponentially when Victor’s face lit up with a smile. “Go get your man,” Phichit whispered, waving at Victor before ducking away to head to class.

“I’m so sorry,” they blurted at the same time, both of them looking confused and immediately breaking out in matching nervous laughter.

“I brought you coffee,” Victor handed the cup to Yuuri, taking a step closer and lifting his free hand to run it through Yuuri’s damp hair. “I’m sorry if your coach punished you for being late.”

“Worth it,” Yuuri smiled, sipping from his cup and stepping further into Victor’s space. Seeing Victor here, waiting for him like Isabella waited for JJ and Guang Hong waited for Leo was doing funny things to every part of Yuuri. Tangling a fist in the front of Victor’s shirt, Yuuri reached up to plant a kiss against Victor’s surprised lips. Releasing his boyfriend, Yuuri laced their fingers together to guide Victor toward the exit. “It was only fifteen laps,” Yuuri shrugged, stumbling when Victor stopped short.

“Fifteen sounds like a lot,” Victor’s eyes were impossibly wide as he took in Yuuri’s shrug. “Granted I know nothing about lacrosse or your normal conditioning, but still.”

“I could teach you,” Yuuri blurted out, clamping his jaw shut and looking anywhere but Victor. After hours of learning about Victor’s research the night before, Yuuri felt himself growing eager to teach Victor about something new. Reluctantly hopeful, Yuuri looked back to Victor.

“Yes, I want you to!” Squeezing Yuuri’s hand, Victor nodded enthusiastically. “When is your next free night?” Pausing by the big glass doors at the front of the building, Victor let go of Yuuri’s hand to hold his hip instead.

“Friday,” Yuuri heard himself answer, his mind already whirling with excitement. “We only have light practice since we have a game on Saturday.” His heart began to race again as Victor leaned down to kiss him.

“It’s a date,” Victor whispered against Yuuri’s cheek, pecking another kiss there and then dotting one on Yuuri’s nose for good measure. Usually Victor was eager to get to work, but this morning he found himself wanting to delay it until the last possible second.

Tilting his head to receive one last kiss, Yuuri smiled when he pulled away. “I’ll text you when class is over,” he smiled over his shoulder one more time, pushing open the closest door and letting it close quietly behind him.

Cloaked in his own elated mood, Yuuri sprinted to class, chiding himself for being late again on account of the most wonderful human he’d ever met. Even as his professor shot daggers at him from overtop of her half-moon spectacles, Yuuri could feel his good mood triumphing. Settling into his seat, Yuuri took a chance at unlocking his phone, grinning at the row of blue hearts waiting to greet him.

Sending back his own set of emojis, Yuuri dropped his phone into his bag. Flushing when he found his professor eying him again, Yuuri decided that fifteen laps and intermittent professor death glares were definitely worthy prices to pay for getting to spend the night in Victor’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU has taken over my heart, so if you want to send me HCs, prompts, questions or reactions, please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!!
> 
>  
> 
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)
> 
>  
> 
> Also please check out my partner's Ao3! Mac is an incredible artist AND writer and deserves all the love! [Mac Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrumpetGeek/pseuds/katsukifatale)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is cheesy.
> 
> Victor is corny. 
> 
> Pretty much everyone is horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art for the picnic date can be found [HERE](http://aetgart.tumblr.com/post/175659920355/timing-is-everything-n3rdlif343va) and was created by the incredibly talented [aetgart aka katsukifatale](http://aetgart.tumblr.com) !!
> 
> Please follow the next link to see Mac's insanely hot depiction of [the victuuri locker room scene](http://aetgart.tumblr.com/post/175292539640/timing-is-everything-n3rdlif343va) seriously, it is drool worthy!!!
> 
> Thank you Mac for making this collab such an amazing experience!! (And also for running the bang, because you are the best!)

For Victor, a normal Friday consisted of class until eleven, working until five, and then takeout from the menu closest to his hand whenever he remembered to eat while plodding away on his thesis construction. It was a routine that was predictable, no matter how much it irritated Chris and left Victor feeling lonely and bored on Saturday mornings.

He had started going to the gym early on Saturdays to combat some of the loneliness. Part of his research dealt with rehabilitation and resistance to recovery, and Victor found putting some of his theories into motion helped him picture each step and adjust accordingly. Sometimes when the gym was lacking other patrons, Victor would restrict one of his limbs to give himself a more accurate assessment.

Dr. Feltsman had caught him lifting one-handed and practically tore him a new asshole with his shouted scolding. Victor had tried to explain his reasoning and had been met only with pure admonishment for his efforts. He was told he was too involved with his work, too invested to be healthy, and for a long time, Victor took that criticism and buried it inside himself, eager to one day prove that they had all been wrong. They could call him a workaholic, hell they could even call him crazy, but Victor was determined to succeed in making a difference and used his narrow-minded focus to do so.

Except Yuuri had literally grabbed Victor out of that focus, pulling him into a world that didn’t surround around muscle charts and treatment possibilities.

Over breakfast on Friday morning, Victor casually mentioned that he wouldn’t be around that night. He smugly enjoyed watching Chris choke on his oatmeal, some of it dribbling down his chin as he muttered in disbelief. “Yuuri is going to teach me about lacrosse,” Victor declared, twirling his spoon in his yogurt and avoiding Chris’s gaping stare. “And he said we’ll have a picnic afterwards.” He was worried that Chris would find the idea lame, even though Victor thought it was the sweetest plan in creation.

“I’m happy for you.”

Lifting his head, Victor took in Chris’s soft smile. “I’m happy for you too,” he said, shoving a bite of yogurt in his mouth to disguise the emotion clamping down in his throat.

“Also, don’t come back to the apartment before eleven tonight,” rising from the table, Chris winked.

“And there it is,” Victor laughed, finishing his breakfast and happily heading out to start his day.

“Here.”

Startled by the brown basket plopped on top of his textbook, Yuuri lifted his head to examined Isabella’s friendly smile. Making a wordless noise, Yuuri poked it with his finger and waited for an explanation.

“JJ overheard you this morning talking about going on a picnic and suggested I lend you this,” Isabella slid into her seat next to Yuuri, demurely crossing her ankles and tucking them under her. “Sometimes we have picnics on the top of the physics building, I have the key to the stairwell if you want to borrow our spot.” Flipping open her notebook, Isabella carefully wrote the date at the top of her page.

Outside of the occasional note sharing and appreciative wave for congratulatory cupcakes, Yuuri had rarely interacted with Isabella. She sat next to him in this class, but they were both highly focused, Yuuri’s grades dictating his ability to stay on his team and Isabella’s the basis of her presidential scholarship. JJ liked to brag about his super smart girlfriend and Yuuri found himself the least annoyed with the freshman attackman when he was singing his girlfriend’s praises.

Carefully removing the wicker basket from his desk, Yuuri turned to smile at Isabella. “Is it really cheesy if we have our picnic on the bleachers? I promised to teach Victor about lacrosse and I thought it would be romantic… or something… to watch the sunset from the field.”

“That’s a really sweet idea,” Isabella rested her cheek on her hand, tapping her pen against her chin. “Maybe a little cheesy, but sometimes cheesy is good. Don’t forget to pack a blanket. You’ll lose romantic points if you make him sit on those dirty bleachers without some sort of protection.” Isabella shifted to look at the front of the classroom as their ancient professor shuffled in with his battered brown suitcase. “Don’t forget some sort of citronella candle,” she whispered behind her hand, eyes flicking toward Yuuri. “Bug bites are also a really quick way to ruin a date.”

Lifting his notebook to show her the notes he was jotting in the margins with her ideas, Yuuri chuckled at Isabella’s happy squeak. He willingly relinquished his notebook when she wiggled a hand towards him, taking it back when she offered it and reading “what are you going to eat?” in her feminine scroll. Foregoing any thought of paying attention to the next hour of class, Yuuri listed a suggested menu for Isabella to approve, peeking over her shoulder as she crossed items out and made suggestions of her own.

When class ended, Yuuri gratefully thanked Isabella for her input. Cradling the basket to his chest and hurriedly moving toward his next class, Yuuri could feel his excitement bubbling inside him, happily overflowing and attempting to drown out all of his nerves.

Clothes were scattered across the bed, a telltale sign of Victor’s growing anxiety about his date. He had showered well over an hour ago and managed to find jeans which were to his liking, but the simple concept of a shirt was driving him to the brink of his own sanity. Huffing a frustrated sigh, he stood between his open closet and the mess on his bed, hands on his hips and brain begging him to make a decision already.

Soft cloth smacked him in the face, causing him to jolt out of his stupor. Barely catching the purple cashmere before it hit the floor, Victor looked up to find Chris standing in his doorway with a knowing smile. “Borrow that,” Chris said, buttoning his own shirt over his bare chest. “Soft, thin enough to not be too hot when you are moving around and will definitely get Yuuri’s hands all over you.”

Feeling his face flush, Victor jammed the thin sweater over his head. The days were gradually becoming hotter, but the evenings were still on the comfortable side of cool and Victor found the luxurious fabric to be a comfortable compromise between all of his discarded choices. Holding his arms to out to his sides, Victor looked expectantly at Chris.

“Perfect,” Chris kissed his fingers in exaggerated approval. “Don’t forget to brush your hair!” he called over his shoulder, abandoning Victor’s doorway to finish getting ready for his own date.

Stepping into his bathroom, Victor stumbled on his own nervous feet and caught the edge of his sink with a small laugh. His reflection revealed pinked cheeks and a giddy smile that hadn’t left his face since Yuuri had proposed their evening plans. Inside his chest, his heart was river dancing a cheerful jig and Victor laughed again at the slight vibration of his hands.

He could remember when he had received his acceptances to both his undergrad and post-grad universities and the level of excitement they had each brought him. He remembered his nervousness upon his first arrival in both locations and the butterflies that had accompanied him to each of his first classes.

This feeling was so much better than that.

Victor had read so many books which described falling in love as a magical occurrence and part of him had always wanted to believe in that magic, even if it had never been a reality in his own life. Now, thanks to Yuuri, Victor was getting his first real taste of that feeling.

Reaching for his comb, Victor carefully worked through the scattered knots in his hair, grinning at his own face in the mirror and relishing in how happy he looked.

The field looked huge without his teammates speckled across it, the blades of the turf waving in the slight breeze. Behind him, rested two sticks against the goal post, his own and one of the spare practice sticks. On the lowest bench sat his packed picnic basket with the candle from the university bookstore already burning. The bento boxes tucked within the basket had been approved by his mother via video chat as he worked through each ingredient. She had excitedly begged Yuuri for details on his date and Yuuri had taken the opportunity to openly gush about Victor’s brilliance and beauty. He could tell from the sparkle in his mom’s eyes that she was truly excited for him and it made his heart swell even larger.

There was a peacefulness hanging over the empty field. Normally, the sounds of clashing sticks or playful jokes filled this space as the team practiced, mixed with the sounds of Celestino’s orders and their manager’s constant calls for uniform checks. On game days, the space buzzed with electricity, the hum of the scoreboard blending with the thrill of the excited crowd. Halfway through Yuuri’s freshman year, lacrosse games had begun to be played to a sold out stadium and the fans hadn’t ceased their enthusiasm from that point forward. 

He was used to the noise and the expectations that came with it, and standing in the empty space left him with a sense of unsettling satisfaction. He had helped build something here, something that he could be proud of even when the anticipation of the next day remained a formidable threat in the back of his mind. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri took a moment to enjoy the silence, closing his eyes and replaying some of his favorite memories of this space.

Victor stood at the edge of the field, a single blue rose barely hanging in the tips of his fingers as he caught sight of Yuuri standing quietly in the center of the field. His eyes were closed and his face was tipped toward the evening sky, the light of the slowly sinking sun highlighting his cheekbones and making his beauty even more prominent. Yuuri looked like he belonged here, surrounded by the towering stands and rich green of the artificial grass.

Taking a cautious step forward, Victor felt his throat constrict as Yuuri turned over his shoulder to greet him with a smile. He had argued against the idea of luck his whole life, stubbornly believing that the only way to achieve anything was through hard work. In that single moment, watching as Yuuri crossed the field with his hands shoved deep in his letterman jacket, Victor decided that luck must exist because it was the only explanation for why this beautiful man was willing to be his.

“Hey,” Yuuri smiled, feeling bashful as his eyes ran over the deep purple sweater and the wind-swept look of Victor’s hair. It was unfair how gorgeous Victor was all the time, and Yuuri felt his palms become damp as he nervously took the last steps into Victor’s space.

“I brought you this,” Victor offered the blue rose to Yuuri, shrugging and shuffling his feet. “Sorry if that’s… I don’t know… really corny.” He jumped slightly when Yuuri touched his cheek, peering out from underneath his bangs.

“I suggested a picnic in the middle of a lacrosse field. I think you get a pass on your corniness.” Yuuri slipped the flower from Victor’s fingers and lifted to his nose to smell it.

“Ok, we can be corny together,” Victor laughed, feeling a little jealous of the rose as it brushed over Yuuri’s lips. Realizing there was no reason he couldn’t kiss Yuuri, Victor leaned in to attempt to take the rose’s place.

With a teasing smile, Yuuri dodged Victor’s lips and pecked a kiss to his forehead instead. “Ready for a lesson?” Yuuri teased, looking over his shoulder as he walked briskly toward the bleachers to carefully rest his rose next to the picnic basket.

Watching Victor’s face change from a playful pout to an excited smile made Yuuri’s heart beat erratically in his chest. He really wanted to teach Victor about his sport before they lost any more light, especially since Victor had agreed to watch his game the next day. Yuuri knew from experience that watching a fast-paced sport without a basic knowledge of the game mechanics was the quickest way to make the sport unbearable. Yuuri secretly wished that Victor would learn to love lacrosse because he wanted to share his love for the sport with Victor.

Victor reacted to Yuuri tossing a stick in his direction by trying to catch it single-handedly. When he was successful, he barely managed to suppress his need to celebrate, telling himself to calm down and be cool. All his effort was lost when Yuuri stood behind him, arms coming around either side of Victor’s body to reposition his hands over the smooth pole. Victor felt the back of his neck heat where he could feel Yuuri’s breath dancing over his skin and he promptly dropped the stick onto the ground. Retrieving it with a sheepish shrug, Victor settled back into Yuuri’s arms with a stolen kiss against Yuuri’s cheek.

Taking in every one of Yuuri’s instructions with rapt attention, Victor tried to mimic Yuuri’s effortless cradle and instead accidentally tossing the ball from his net to someplace over his shoulder. Spinning on his heel, Victor chased it down, stabbing at the ground and trying to collect it. The presence of Yuuri at his back again made Victor stumble, his ears turning pink as Yuuri leaned over him, guiding him to successfully scoop up the ball. In an attempt to calm himself, Victor twirled around, waving the stick wildly and making Yuuri laugh. “Hey! I’m getting the hang of this! I bet I could score a goal on you!” He dodged left and right, the cadence of his cradle offbeat with his steps.

Stepping backwards, Yuuri lined himself up with the goal. He knew Victor was teasing about getting a goal and found it even more endearing because Victor had no idea what he was up against. The competitive part of Yuuri wanted to block his boyfriend’s shot, wanted to take the opportunity to impress Victor with his skills, but the sound of Victor’s relaxed laughter was too tempting. Releasing himself from his normal stance, Yuuri let his shoulders loosen and prepared for Victor’s attempt.

“How do you…” Victor continued to rock the stick back and forth in his hands, advancing toward Yuuri with a lopsided grin. “I guess… how do you block a shot? It seems hard with a ball this size.”

“It’s all about timing,” Yuuri focused on Victor’s goofy smile instead of the abysmal way he was handling the equipment in his hands. “I watch the attackers, keeping tracking of how each one of them moves. I spend more time watching game tapes than the other guys do so that I can judge the speed and general trajectory of the main attackers for each of our opponents.” Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Yuuri mirrored Victor’s attempt at a zig zag approach with a stifled giggle. “Every attacker has their own rhythm. If I learn to time their rhythms, I can learn to block them.”

“So timing is everything then, huh?” Victor thought about the first time he met Yuuri and the unexplainably lucky timing that had brought Victor in Yuuri’s path exactly when he needed someone to rescue him. Winking to try to throw Yuuri off, Victor took a leap to his left and let the ball fly.

The ball launched from Victor’s net at a comically fast speed, jamming directly into the ground and rolling toward Yuuri’s feet. At the last second, Yuuri pretended to dive for it, going in the opposite direction of the ball’s path and letting it easily roll into the net. Rolling onto his back on the ground, Yuuri gave a dramatic sigh. “You have proven a worthy opponent, Nikiforov.” Victor appeared above him, rolling his eyes with another laugh.

“I’m going to tell everyone I scored on the great Yuuri Katsuki,” Victor teased, flinching when Yuuri choked on his own retort. Trying to recover from his accidental innuendo, Victor reached out a hand to yank Yuuri to his feet.

He had seen Yuuri curious, and had seen him shy. He had seen Yuuri’s poker face when he played the most absurdly inappropriate card selections in their game with Phichit and Chris and he had seen Yuuri terrified in the hallway of Dan’s house. This version of Yuuri, encouraging while teaching and then ridiculously silly for the benefit of Victor’s amusement, was another layer that made Victor feel ready to swoon.

Letting himself be pulled from the ground, Yuuri reversed Victor’s hold on his hand so that he could lead Victor towards the picnic basket on the bleachers. Victor’s Freudian comment about scoring on him had left Yuuri a little breathless, the implication still playing in Yuuri’s mind as they approached the waiting blanket. Swinging a leg over the metal bench, Yuuri smiled as Victor did the same, scooting forward until their knees touched. Lifting the basket from its place between them, Yuuri refocused his mind on carefully removing their dinner hoping to prevent his brain from continuing its course down a more explicit path.

“What’s hiding in there?” Victor inquired, attempting to get a peek into the basket when Yuuri opened only one side. His eyebrows raised as Yuuri produced two sleek black boxes, placing one in front of each of them with a pair of chopsticks resting on top. A bottle of green tea was added to the presentation next and Victor couldn’t resist tracing the lines of the box in front of him while Yuuri politely unscrewed the top of Victor’s drink. “What is this?”

“Bento boxes.” Yuuri picked up Victor’s chopsticks and held them out for Victor to take. Delicately, Yuuri slid the layers apart, placing all three in a triangle formation on the blanket. He repeated the process with his own, stealing glances at Victor to ensure himself that he had made the right decision. “I hope you like rice and fish. I probably should have asked first…” Internally he winced at Victor’s silence.

“Did you make this?” Victor asked, his question filled with incredulous awe. Everything located in the slotted box looked expertly crafted and the aroma rising from each little tray was making his mouth water. With wide eyes, he looked at Yuuri.

“Yes?” Yuuri answered, unable to read Victor’s expression. Hesitantly, he lifted his first tray, capturing a piece of fish in between his chopsticks and popping it in his mouth. He instantly thanked himself for spending the money at the most expensive grocery store in their town.

“Wow,” Victor looked over his choices, picking up his middle tray and plucking up a roll covered with a thin piece of pink fish. Stuffing the entire thing in his mouth, Victor moaned with his appreciation of the delectable taste. “Yuuri this is amazing. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble.” Emotion swam in Victor’s chest as he picked another bite, chewing happily as he smiled at Yuuri with his mouth full.

“To be fair, my mom helped me.” Yuuri blushed as he continued his own dinner, refusing to look up at Victor. “I had her on video chat the whole time.”

_Oh my goodness, that’s the sweetest thing I have ever heard_ , Victor thought, swallowing his bite and placing the tray back on the bench before lifting a different one. Trying to temper his desire to embarrass Yuuri over his astounding sweetness, Victor racked his brain for a divergent topic. “Could you explain the rules of lacrosse? I tried to google it, but… honestly it makes so little sense when spelled out on paper.”

Yuuri choked on his tea, covering his mouth as he sputtered in amusement. His sister had shared the same observation nearly ten years ago, and Yuuri found himself loving how adorable Victor looked with a line of confusion creating a crease between his eyebrows. Capping his drink, Yuuri shifted on the bench and pointed a finger out toward the field.

Victor had never had the slightest interest in lacrosse. In fact, when they had been choosing internships and jobs, he had written off the sport as uninteresting and outside of his desired target areas to develop his knowledge. Sitting on the lowest bleacher bench with the last of his dinner disappearing, he couldn’t wrap his head around how wrong he had been.

The way Yuuri described the game, Victor could imagine the players lined up on the field, aggressive and ready to take on their opponents. Yuuri’s eyes sparkled, his hands moving excitedly while he painted a picture to help educate Victor on this part of Yuuri’s world. Through Yuuri’s eyes, lacrosse became the most beautiful sport Victor had ever heard of.

Realizing he had been talking for a solid twenty minutes without stopping to let Victor ask questions, Yuuri dropped his hands in his lap and whispered an apology. He knew that he tended to get overexcited about his sport, the intricacies which made it compelling to him often made it boring for others. When he heard Victor say his name, Yuuri raised his head, startled by the loving look in Victor’s eyes. “Did I bore you?” he asked hesitantly, concentrating hard on restacking their now empty boxes and slipping them back into the basket.

“You could never bore me,” Victor stopped Yuuri’s nervous movement by grabbing Yuuri’s hand. “I love the way you describe the game. I can almost see it happening before my eyes.” His heart flipped over in his chest when Yuuri looked at him, a beautiful relief shining in Yuuri’s eyes. He wondered if he had looked similar when Yuuri had allowed him to ramble about his thesis research. “I think you could probably discuss paint drying and I would find it enchanting.”

Snickering, Yuuri leaned forward. “That’s how I feel listening to you talk about your research. I love how passionate you are about every detail.” Yuuri played with Victor’s fingers to distract himself from the embarrassment of his admission.

“To be fair,” Victor smiled, “most people would say my research is less exciting than paint drying.” He scoffed at the end of his comment, a hint of bitterness leaking into his intended joke.

“Most people are stupid,” Yuuri shrugged. He trailed his gaze from the place where their fingers were hooked together to find Victor staring at him with such open affection it made Yuuri’s heart clench in his chest. Victor looked stunning in the twilight, the last hints of the sun’s light disappearing under the horizon and leaving Victor highlighted by the glow of the stars above them. This brilliant, beautiful, and misunderstood man was willing to take time away from his busy life to invest in Yuuri, and Yuuri could feel the weight of that realization land in his heart with a permanent thud.

They moved together without another word, finding each other halfway across the bench. The angle in which they were leaning was slightly awkward, both still straddling the bench between their legs and their hands still joined in the space between them. Despite all of that, Yuuri felt the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, the feel of Victor’s own smile pressed firmly against his lips.

The sound of fists banging against lockers beat in time with Yuuri’s thundering heart. Every member of their team was dressed for the game, gathering in a tight circle around Coach Celestino who had finished their pregame review and had moved onto their ritual pregame chant. The team swayed in time with Celestino’s words, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, unifying their energy and ramping up their shared adrenaline with every word.

Beside Yuuri, Phichit nodded in beat with their swaying, his eyes finding Yuuri’s with a devilish smirk. “Going to win this one for your man, Katsuki?” The tease set fire to Yuuri’s blood, causing him to narrow his eyes and give a defiant nod. Phichit’s playfulness faded into his game face, returning Yuuri’s nod and leaving the jokes behind.

The speaker in the locker room allowed them to hear the introduction of the other team and the roaring boos of the crowd carried through the room without the aid of amplification. Wicked flares of anticipation burned in Yuuri’s veins as he took his place at the end of his team’s line.

From his place in the stands, Victor watched as the opposing team ran onto the field, heads held high against the nasty remarks being tossed from the crowd. Alarmed by the aggression, Victor turned to question Chris about what was happening, when he was interrupted by the announcement of their home team. The crowd around them leapt to their feet, and Chris pulled Victor up beside him. As the team ran onto the field, Victor clapped along with everyone else, smiling when Chris yelled Phichit’s name over the noise.

An anticipatory hush fell over the crowd as the booming voice in the press box prepared to announce the starting lineup. One by one, the starting players ran onto the field, greeted by the overwhelming enthusiasm of their home crowd, until there was a single man left standing at the edge of the field.

A song Victor only vaguely recalled hearing before flooded from the overhead speakers, creating a ripple effect through the crowd. All around him, people began to chant the name of his favorite human.

“Katsuki! Katsuki! Katsuki!”

To Victor’s surprise, even Chris was joining in, one hand pumping in the air as Yuuri ran onto the field, his stick held high above head in silent acknowledgment of the support. Glancing down at the jersey Victor had pulled over his own shirt, he felt a rush of pride at being connected to the player everyone was loudly worshipping. “That’s your man!” Chris yelled in Victor’s ear, pointing a finger toward the large screen at one end of the field.

A montage video played, a backdrop to the players warming up on the field. Victor told himself to concentrate on watching the live action Yuuri, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from the images flashing on the screen. When a large image of Yuuri without his helmet, dirt streaked and sweaty with a look of pure intensity appeared on the screen, Victor was absolutely positive that his soul had vacated his body, the price he surely had to pay for dating someone so jaw-droppingly sexy.

Chris’s hand on his elbow broke Victor from his trance. Realizing he was the only one still standing, Victor blushed as he slammed down into his seat. Chris’s laughter had Victor elbowing his best friend in the side. “They look pretty good down there,” Chris commented, his slight nod indicating the players lining up on the field. Victor watched as Yuuri exchanged a handshake with the other team’s captain, desperately wishing he could hear what was being said.

“Katsuki,” Ciao Bin offered his bare hand, his glove tucked under his armpit.

“Good luck today,” Yuuri responded, obliging the gesture by removing his own glove. His hand was squeezed harder than was strictly sportsmanlike and Yuuri raised a silent eyebrow before pulling away from the hold.

“We’re going to break your streak,” Ciao Bin growled, loud enough for his teammates to hear.

Responding with nothing but a smirk, Yuuri turned his back on his opponents, returning to his team and calling for them to huddle up. It hadn’t been his desire to ever be the captain of their team, but once the role was thrust upon him, Yuuri had been resolute in his decision to live up to the role.

“One more game,” Yuuri shouted, putting his gloved hand out and welcoming the weight of the team’s gloves upon his own. “We fight, fifteen minutes at a time. We take every shot we get and we rob them of the chance to do the same. We are undefeated, let’s show them why.” Nodding at Phichit, Yuuri let him take over the remaining part of their chant.

The huddle broke as the referee blew the whistle, the team members on both sides running into their positions. Standing in the crease of the goal, Yuuri rotated his stick in a circle, banging it against each section of the goal post in his own pregame superstition.

A shrill whistle carried over the field causing a burst in motion. With a dangerous smile settling over his face, Yuuri traced the path of the ball, ready for anything the other team could throw at him.

The disjointed voice overhead announced the beginning of halftime leaving Victor stunned that half of the game had already passed. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, every second of the past thirty minutes of game time imprinted on his brain through emotional overload.

Yuuri had been magnificent. Victor had assumed that Yuuri was good, he had to be to be ranked at the top of all of the national players, but he had no idea that watching Yuuri play would be so exhilarating. Every time an opponent had approached Yuuri’s end of the field, Victor saw the shift in Yuuri’s stance, varying depending on which player was attacking. Every block had been like a well-executed dance move, Yuuri’s power flaring in his quick steps and explosive reactions. He seemed to trust his teammates explicitly, releasing the ball back into play without a second of hesitation.

Victor was both amazed and remarkably aroused.

“You know,” Chris drawled next to him, tapping a finger on Victor’s knee, “if your boyfriend wasn’t so good, maybe mine would actually get to play.” With a confused look, Victor shook his head at Chris. “Phichit is a freshman goalie, he is Yuuri’s backup. As long as your man is the star, my man warms the bench.”

Pondering this new piece of information about Yuuri’s relationship with Phichit, Victor sank back into his chair, hoping that his heart would take the chance to rest and give him a fighting chance at surviving the second half of the game.

“Put Phichit in.” Yuuri’s voice rang over the rest of the distressed arguing that was occurring in their locker room. He had blocked every shot that had been attempted on his goal, but Ciao Bin had been equally successful in his own. His teammates were frustrated, especially JJ as their freshman attackmen, and their antsy demeanor had begun to affect their playmaking in the last minutes of the first half.

“What do you mean put Phichit in?” Leo demanded, stopping himself and throwing a look toward Phichit. “No offense, P!”

“None taken… I guess…” Phichit shrugged, his frustration with the comment painted clear as day across his face.

“Put Phichit in,” Yuuri repeated, standing from his place on the bench to address Celestino directly. “Phichit knows this team. Two of their midfielders were on his high school team and he taught me how to read them. If you put Phichit in my place, for the third quarter only, I can step in on the field. Ciao Bin won’t be expecting me and he has never seen me play on the frontline. We need an advantage, this is how we get it.”

The locker room was silent as Celestino considered the suggestion. Snapping his fingers, he yanked a jersey from their manager’s hands and tossed it in Yuuri’s direction. “Change your pads. Let’s brainstorm a way to get yours out to the field for a quick change between the third and the fourth. Phichit, put on Yuuri’s jersey. You get one quarter to play out this plan, after that you’re back in goal, do you hear me?” Celestino’s words were firm, but the set of his jaw told Yuuri that he was going to support the idea as if it was his own. Acknowledging his coach’s terms with a tense nod, Yuuri swapped sticks with Phichit and pulled his pads over his head.

Confusion spread over the crowd as number twenty three was subbed in for JJ Leroy. No name was attached to the number, the player simply being referenced by the digits on his jersey alone. Victor listened to those around him murmuring about the mysterious number, wondering how an entire season had gone by without any of the team’s fans knowing every player on the team.

“Phichit is missing,” Chris mumbled so low Victor almost missed it. Scanning the jerseys sitting on the bench, Victor noted the lack of Phichit’s number among them. His confusion mounting, Victor sat forward in his seat, elbows braced against his knees with his mind spinning.

The whistle blew to signal the start of the game and number twenty three exploded from his position, catching a pass in midair without breaking his stride. As if he was dancing, he broke away down the field, leaving the other players in the dust as he raced toward the goalie.

The smack of the ball against the back of the net set off an explosion of noise from the crowd. All around Victor strangers were hugging, Victor finding himself caught in Chris’s exuberant embrace before he could register what happened. On the field, number twenty three stood in front of the other team’s goalie, a frozen second of time before he was tackled by his teammates.

“Surprise,” Yuuri drawled, the competitive part of him loving Ciao Bin’s devastated expression as he realized who was under the helmet. He heard the other goalie begin to scream about his identity, unable to register anything beyond the first few words before his teammates were piling on his back. The celebration lasted only a few seconds, Yuuri breaking it up with his demands to keep going. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the other team began their assault on his best friend and rookie goalie and Yuuri felt a carnal desire to beat as many goals into their net as humanly possible in fifteen minutes.

Lining back up at center field, Yuuri took his place between his teammates. He looked over his shoulder, giving Phichit a thumbs up to reassure his best friend. Phichit looked confident in his position, the smile shining from behind his mask telling Yuuri all he needed to know about Phichit’s feelings regarding the other team’s plans to attack head on. Phichit may have been tucked in Yuuri’s shadow for the better part of his freshman year, but Yuuri knew his best friend had the potential to be the one standing at the top. Squaring his shoulders towards the opposing player in front of him, Yuuri readied himself for another attack.

“Katsuki is number twenty three!”

Victor sat bolt upright, staring at the girl who had shouted this information over the stands. Snapping his attention back to the field, Victor studied the figure standing at the goal. Even though the goalie was wearing Yuuri’s number, the way he stood and held his stick was completely different. Roaming the field to find number twenty three, Victor immediately noted the nervous bounce of the stick against the player’s glove and the minute bounce of the player’s left heel. “Oh my god, it is him,” Victor whispered, fear clamping down on his stomach as he watched Yuuri sprint from his position.

“What do you-” Chris stopped mid question to wince as number twenty three was blindsided from his left, taking the hit with a sickening _thwack_ ringing through the stadium. Yuuri stayed on his feet, swooping wide to compensate and sweeping his back leg in an inconspicuous kick to the offending players shin. The player landed on the field, skidding several feet before recovering and springing back up.

In the time it took for Victor to process the physical altercation, Yuuri had already covered the remaining distance toward the goal, faking a shot and passing it to Leo who took advantage of the goalie’s shift to guard against Yuuri’s fake. Again, the ball struck the net, spending a shockwave of celebration through the crowd.

“Do you think Yuuri’s okay?” Victor asked, eyes still trained on his boyfriend as Yuuri stood near the sideline listening to his coach. Only eight minutes had worn their way off of the clock and Victor was positive he was going to die before the game was over.

“I think Yuuri is tough in a way that is slightly frightening, my friend,” Chris clapped a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “It is also a bit of a turn on if I am going to be honest.”

Unable to disagree, Victor only nodded. He couldn’t deny how incredibly attractive Yuuri’s power on the field was, but there was a deeper part of him that was paralyzed with fear for Yuuri’s safety. He may not completely understand the strategy of the game being played, but he could see the other team shifting and a clear line of attention being targeted in Yuuri’s direction.

“They’re gunning for you now,” Celestino growled, grabbing Yuuri by his face mask and yanking him closer. “Don’t get hurt out there, you are playing goalie in the fourth, no matter how beat up you are.” Yuuri stumbled when Celestino released his mask. “Be careful,” Celestino added and Yuuri noted the concern in his voice. Yuuri knew beyond being Celestino’s star player that he was also someone Celestino cared about, in the same way Celestino cared about all his players. Vowing to come out of the remaining seven minutes unscathed, Yuuri took his place on the line and nodded toward JJ who had rejoined them on the field.

“Are there four attackmen now?” Victor questioned, pointing to each of the jersey numbers and counting them out loud. “I don’t understand, I thought Yuuri said they can’t do that.” Lost in thought, Victor nearly missed Yuuri ducking around JJ to pursue the other team’s attacker.

“He’s playing midfield now!” A nearby girl screamed, answering the question Victor had asked seconds ago. He could only watch with his jaw hanging open as Yuuri tore across the field, taking a sharp blow of a stick to his arm as he launched himself forward to protect Phichit.

Feeling the string of his skin splitting, Yuuri scooped the dropped ball from the ground and flung it toward JJ. He raced behind the attackmen, cheering them on as JJ took the final steps of his approach and launched the ball into the dead center of Ciao Bin’s chest. “Shake it off, JJ!” Yuuri yelled, running to put himself back in line to defend his goalie once again.

An elbow collided with Yuuri’s face as he turned, pain radiating through his cheek as he shoved back against the other player.

“What the hell!” Victor yelled from the stands, jumping to his feet in anger along with the majority of the people around him. Choruses of “eject him!” echoed around him and Victor joined in, unsure if that was really something a referee could do. His stomach knotted as Yuuri brushed a glove against the side of his helmet, taking a few seconds to shake his head before getting himself back in the game.

Victor could only imagine the shape Yuuri’s body would be in after the game and immediately began formulating a plan in his head as to how to help his boyfriend heal all of his wounds as the clock wound down to the final seconds of the third quarter.

The fourth quarter of the game passed without either team scoring, despite the fiery attempts being made by both sides. Phichit had held his own in goalie throughout the entire third quarter and Yuuri had advocated that he remain in the position for the last quarter. He hadn’t won the argument and had found himself stripping and redressing on the sidelines, taking his rightful place in front of the goal for the final minutes of the game.

At the final whistle, Yuuri’s teammates had rushed him, throwing Yuuri on their shoulders and hoisting Phichit up next to him. Thoroughly embarrassed by their antics, Yuuri had wiggled his way down, laughing as Phichit gladly accepted his shoulder-height ride into the locker room.

Yuuri allowed himself time to trail behind their pack, mentally assessing his injuries before he would have to face the reality of them. His left side stung across his ribcage and the muscles in his upper arm resisted his stretch above his head. The cut on his face and the one on his arm would probably need to be glued, but he was positive he would be able to avoid stitches this time. Sighing with the total count of his injuries, Yuuri finally plodded into the locker room, joining in briefly with the celebration before dragging himself into the showers.

Victor stood with Chris outside of the locker room, jolting slightly every time the doors swung open to emit another player into the open air. He had pulled Yuuri’s jersey from his body and was nervously twisting it in his hands, anxious to replace the fabric with the man himself. Phichit appeared alone, kissing Chris with both arms thrown over his neck before pausing to address Victor.

“You can go in, you know,” Phichit rested his head against Chris’s chest and sighed when Chris pressed his fingers into the muscles of Phichit’s back. “I know you’re allowed because you are a trainer or a trainee trainer or whatever you are, but also no one is left in there. Yuuri is always the last one out on game days.”

Whether it was because Phichit’s suggestion was truly innocent or because Yuuri’s best friend was too tired to interject his normally suggestive tone, Victor only hesitated for a handful of seconds before pushing his way through the heavy doors of the locker room. Quietly, Victor walked down the line of lockers, peering down each one in search of his boyfriend.

Yuuri leaned on his locker, his sweatpants loose and sagging on his hips, his back still bare as he reached for the bottle of ibuprofen which he kept on hand to get ahead of post-game pain and swelling. Tossing two into his mouth, Yuuri tipped his head back to chug the remaining water from the bottle in his hand.

Victor stopped short, the blood rushing from his head as he spotted Yuuri, half-naked with droplets of water still clinging to his back and bruises decorating his beautiful skin. His back was arched as Yuuri drank from his water bottle, the muscles in his throat flexing and leaving Victor floundering for any semblance of a coherent thought. For the entirety of Yuuri’s game, Victor had been caught somewhere between unrelenting fear and unstoppable lust, the former of the two disappearing completely as Yuuri dropped his bottle and rolled his shoulders.

“I can help with the pain,” Victor said, jumping when Yuuri screamed and slammed backwards into his locker. “Sorry!” Victor shouted, covering the distance between them in a few long strides. “I thought you would have heard me come in.” Putting his hands on Yuuri’s bare waist, Victor steadied him as he felt himself grow increasingly unsteady. Yuuri was beautiful on an average day with his hair flopping in his face and his glasses constantly slipping down his nose. Post-game Yuuri, half-dressed without his glasses and his wet hair pushed back from his forehead was a vision straight out of Victor’s filthiest dreams.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Yuuri’s heartrate refused to slow down, the spike of it caused by Victor’s sudden appearance and not because Victor had nearly scared the life out of him. Victor’s button down shirt was unbuttoned at his collar and Yuuri’s away jersey hung over Victor’s forearm, the wrinkles and bite marks around the collar enough evidence for Yuuri to be positive that Victor had been wearing it during the game. Although he hadn’t seen it, the idea of Victor in his jersey was making Yuuri’s libido rage, the strength of it further fueled by the adrenaline of his team’s risky win and Yuuri’s own part in it.

In his silence, Yuuri had unconsciously begun to unbutton Victor’s shirt further, his hands fluttering when he realized what he was doing. Pausing, he glanced up at Victor through the falling curtain of his wet hair.

“You were incredible out there,” Victor could feel his breath quickening with each button Yuuri popped loose. He pulled Yuuri closer by his hips, brushing his nose against the bridge Yuuri’s nose as he continued to speak. “I’ve never been so scared and so turned on at the same time.”

Desire crashed over Yuuri, Victor’s words drawing the tsunami to its highest peak before letting it sweep Yuuri away. Not giving himself any time to think, Yuuri shoved Victor’s shirt from his shoulders, running his hands up Victor’s bare skin and lacing one hand into Victor’s hair. Pushing up on his toes, Yuuri paused a breath away from Victor’s lips. “Thanks for watching me,” Yuuri whispered, ghosting his lips over Victor’s and pushing his hips further into Victor’s hands.

“I don’t plan to stop… ever,” Victor responded, struggling to get the words out with the way Yuuri was moving against him. Unable to resist any longer, Victor kissed Yuuri with all the hunger that had built up inside of him over the past hour.

The feeling of Victor’s hands kneading into the overused muscles in Yuuri’s back had Yuuri moaning into Victor’s kiss, his pleasure tinged with helpful pain as Victor’s skilled fingers worked him over. He wanted to feel those fingers elsewhere and he whispered this desire as he nipped at Victor’s earlobe. Yuuri continued his thorough exploration of Victor’s neck as Victor fumbled his phone from his pocket.

“Where are u,” Victor typed to Chris, unable to think about correct spelling or punctuation as Yuuri traced every sensitive spot along Victor’s throat with his eager tongue. Groaning when his phone dinged, Victor opened his eyes, reading Chris’s brief “diner, why?” response. Pulling Yuuri back to his mouth with his free hand tangled tightly in the back of Yuuri’s hair, Victor felt the shudder of Yuuri’s body against his own. “Do you want to…” Victor lost his thought as Yuuri’s tongue ran along his bottom lip.

“Yes,” Yuuri exhaled, his mind catching up to his body and gratefully discovering that all of him was on the same page. Pulling back slightly, Yuuri cupped Victor’s cheek with his hand. “If you don’t let me go right now, this is going to happen right here on the dirty locker room floor.” Yuuri laughed when Victor grimaced, loosening his grip on Yuuri’s body and allowing him to slip out of his arms.

Pouting when Yuuri put on a shirt, Victor tilted his head in an exaggerated angle to emphasize his ogling of Yuuri’s posterior as he bent down to slip on his shoes. Grinning as Yuuri rolled his eyes, Victor unlocked his phone, using his other hand to pull his shirt back onto his shoulders. His smile widened when Yuuri made his own sound of protest. “Find somewhere else to be for at least the next four hours.” Victor sent his text off to Chris before grabbing Yuuri’s bag and slipping it onto his own shoulder. Curling a finger into the waistband of Yuuri’s sweatpants, Victor dragged him back in for another deep kiss.

Yuuri licked his lips as he pulled away, linking his hand with Victor’s and urged him to walk toward the exit. Victor had promised to help Yuuri with his pain, and Yuuri was very eager to see exactly how Victor planned to do so. Stopping a foot away from the exit, Yuuri guided their linked hands behind his back, pressing their bodies together and stealing one last kiss from Victor.

“Locker rooms are not for sex, Katsuki!” Celestino yelled from somewhere in the vast room, causing Victor and Yuuri to jump apart. Embarrassed, they shared blushing giggles, pushing open the heavy doors and headed to spend the rest of the day exploring every inch of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left!! And then most likely this will become a series as well because there are too many ideas floating in my mind! 
> 
> If you have any HCs, prompts, questions or reactions, please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor 'my boyfriend is hot, be jealous' Nikiforov
> 
> Yuuri 'I'm equal parts stubborn and stupid' Katsuki 
> 
> Somehow, they still live happily ever after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a one-shot available between these two chapters!! Please check out [Bet on Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422358) for a little Victor wearing Yuuri's jersey action :)
> 
> LAST CHAPTER! The next chapter is the epilogue and anyone has read [Be My Chef, Yuuri](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102205/chapters/22504352) then you know my epilogues are always filled to the brim with lots of good stuff ;) (It's seriously almost as long as the regular chapters LOL). 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing partner [katsukifatale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrumpetGeek/pseuds/katsukifatale) whose writing you should definitely check out by following the link. Mac created ALL of the amazing art for this fic, including the very emotional scene in this chapter. Please go give Mac all the love for [this incredible art](http://aetgart.tumblr.com/post/176177268085/timing-is-everything-n3rdlif343va)!

Dating the school’s most popular man was a phenomena that Victor hadn’t been prepared for. In fact, with the amount of attention Yuuri received (that Yuuri seemed completely oblivious to), Victor continually questioned his own tunnel vision. How he didn’t know who Yuuri was before that fateful party was beyond him, but he was eternally grateful that he knew Yuuri now.

Knew Yuuri intimately, in fact.

He knew the way Yuuri liked his coffee and that despite the customary early mornings, Yuuri hated all hours before 10AM. He knew that Yuuri liked being the big spoon, but needed the comfort of Victor’s heartbeat in his ear when his anxiety broadcasted itself through nightmares. He knew that Yuuri hogged the blankets and that he unfairly never had morning breath, and that he had a love of food that rivaled Victor’s own. Victor had also made a point to memorize every inch of Yuuri’s physical attributes, committing every intimate detail to the depths of his long-term memory.

On any day it was possible, they walked across campus together, hand in hand or arms slung around each other’s waists. (Including the days Victor insisted on walking Yuuri to class, despite having to sprint back to the athletic building to clock in for his shifts or slide into his own class with a falsely apologetic smile due to his lateness). Yuuri never noticed (or at least never commented) on the jealous stares of his classmates when they shared goodbye kisses and also never seemed to register the pining sighs of the majority of the campus population as they walked through common areas with their hands intertwined.

There was a possessive part of Victor’s heart that liked all of these people seeing Yuuri concentrate only on him. In turn, Yuuri had Victor’s undivided attention as well and Victor loved the balance even as he stressed about his own out-of-place concerns. Chris had tried to reassure him that his feelings were natural, stating that he shared some of the same thoughts when it came to the hordes of admirers who seemed determined to stay in Phichit’s orbit. His best friend had lamented about Phichit’s popularity increasing once he was the university’s starting goalie, and Victor had provided his own supportive sympathy for Chris’s worries. Jokingly, Chris had closed the conversation, reminding Victor that they were both hot and due to be very rich one day, making Victor’s heart feel lighter and his mind less guilty in the midst of his amusement.

As the national tournament grew closer, Victor had asked Yuuri approximately one hundred questions about the way the tournament was structured. The schedule seemed grueling, although Yuuri had reassured him that weekly games were not abnormal and it was merely the hours of preparation and travel which added weight and girth to his already strained schedule. Victor thought differently, but he kept his opinions to himself not wanting to cause Yuuri any additional stress and tried to reassure himself that Yuuri knew exactly what he was doing. It was the opinions of his fellow trainers which told Victor he may have been wrong to assume this.

Mila was the first to say something, only prompted to do so when Victor walked in on a conversation between her and another trainer. She had barely finished her story recalling Yuuri playing last year’s tournament with three broken ribs when she looked up to find Victor standing there with his eyebrows in his hairline. He felt the pit open in his stomach, his feet stumbling as he crossed the room and asked her to repeat what she had just said.

Apparently the resolve to keep playing was nothing new to Yuuri, and Victor listened in gawking horror as both of the other trainers spoke of Yuuri’s raw determination to keep playing through a list of questionable injuries. There had been the broken ribs from the tournament the year before, the dislocated shoulder (placed back into socket on the side of the field) during the previous year’s playoff run, and stitches in Yuuri’s cheek when his sports glasses had cracked from an unusually brutal hit. They discussed the way Yuuri’s body always looked like the beginnings of a Jackson Pollock painting, littered with splashes of bruises and cuts.

Naively, Victor had voiced his thought that Yuuri should be hurt _less_ as the team’s goalie, earning him blank stares and deep frowns. Regrettably, it spurred a discussion of physics, including hand drawn charts showing the trajectory, speed, and estimated forced of impact of each potential shot. He was educated on the damage that could be done to a body if an attackman decided to become too aggressive and collide with the goalie inside of the crease. Independent falling posed less of a risk, but Mila made sure to also cover that aspect of potential injury anyway. It was also unfortunately pointed out that Yuuri’s antics of switching positions had not been unique to the first game Victor had seen, and that his aggressive style of play normally earned him several notable marks whenever he took it upon himself to join the less padded members of the team on the field.

It was a horrifying hour and Victor was grateful when the swim team’s divers rolled into the training room. Logging all of the information into the back of his mind, Victor swore he was going to find a way to talk to Yuuri about it. He also made a beeline to Yakov’s office and followed him around, speaking at lightning speed, until Yakov agreed to assign Victor to the staff traveling with the lacrosse team for the tournament. He prayed that Yuuri wouldn’t get injured, but he hoped that if he was the one telling him to sit out, that maybe Yuuri would listen.

The first weekend of the tournament passed without issue. As the top seeded team, they easily demolished the lowest ranked team. Yuuri spent the last quarter of the game on the bench, and in contrast to his normal laser focus, he made Celestino crazy by constantly glancing over his shoulder to catch Victor’s eye.

Excitement had been Yuuri’s primary emotion when Victor had revealed he would be traveling with the team. It made academic sense, since Victor would have an opportunity to use some of his proposed methods on the team before they boarded a bus and became stiff over a multi-hour ride home. Selfishly, Yuuri was simply happy to have Victor in the seat next to him, a prime partner for post-game snuggling and a perfect shoulder for Yuuri to nap on during the long hours of the ride. The extra attention to Yuuri’s thigh muscles by Victor’s skilled hands certainly didn’t go unappreciated either.

The second weekend of the tournament was also fairly uneventful. Yuuri could feel the strain beginning to build ahead of the game, but was able to easily distract himself by preparing for finals and allowing Victor to dote on him at every turn. Yuuri was not used to allowing anyone to care for him, and there were times when his mind wanted to question why it was so easy to accept Victor’s open affections. On the days that these worrisome thoughts curled around the rising nerves of the next game, Yuuri let himself cling to Victor a little tighter. If Victor noticed, he never commented, and Yuuri appreciated the quiet understanding.

When his team successfully won their second tournament game without any remarkable effort, Yuuri could feel a mixture of dazed relief and impending dread. The next game wouldn’t prove to be as easy and Yuuri could already feel the pressure mounting as the team returned home from their second win, his shoulders tensing even as he took his first steps off the bus.

Victor noticed the change in Yuuri’s mood during the days ahead of the third weekend of the tournament. They both had finals to attend to and they spent most of their together time sitting across from each other in the library or sprawled across one of their bedroom floors. Victor was also preparing to defend his thesis, a realization that was drumming into his mind even as he completed the very last finals of his academic career.

On the night before their third game, the team gathered in a restaurant down the street from their hotel. Yuuri had encouraged Phichit to use his persuasive skills to convince Celestino to allow significant others to join them and because Phichit never failed at any objective he put his mind to, Yuuri was happily leaning against Victor’s side as JJ went into another story about one of their past games.

“And then Katsuki!” JJ howled, hands failing as everyone laughed along with him, “this guy goes and flips that asshole over his back! It wasn’t until two days later that we found out this idiot was playing with broken ribs!”

“Oh my god, I remember that!” Phichit wheezed, slumping onto Chris as he continued to laugh. “Celestino! Your face was priceless when those x-ray pictures went up!”

Against his side, Yuuri felt Victor stiffen. Glancing upward, Yuuri saw the pinch set in across Victor’s lips. “It wasn’t that bad. The fractures were hairline at worst and I didn’t even feel the pain until almost twelve hours after the game.” Yuuri felt apprehension settle into his stomach at Victor’s bland expression. He knew that it sounded bad the way the team was currently ribbing him about it, but the situation hadn’t really warranted major concern at the time. He hoped that Victor would let him explain, sneaking a hand onto Victor’s knee and squeezing to try to reassure his boyfriend.

Victor couldn’t say he enjoyed the humor the rest of the dinner guests seemed to get out of Yuuri’s stubbornness. He spotted the pink creeping over Yuuri’s cheeks and down the back of his neck and felt Yuuri’s fingers worriedly gripping at his knee. There was no way to know whether Yuuri was worried about Victor’s poorly concealed reactions or whether the current level of attention he was receiving, but Victor was inclined to believe it was the first one. Adjusting his position on the chair, Victor pulled Yuuri closer to his side, trying to reassure Yuuri even though his stomach felt unpleasantly unsettled.

The remaining hour of dinner passed in a blur. Yuuri tried to focus on the conversations around him, finding it nearly impossible with the way Victor’s smile had changed from bright to something more subtle. He had no idea what was going on in Victor’s mind and his own concerns were ramping up to full screams inside of his head. Grateful that he had agreed to Phichit’s proposal to switch between hotel rooms for the hours leading up to curfew, Yuuri nervously fiddled with the fabric of his jeans as he rode the elevator silently with Victor by his side.

Sliding the plastic card into the lock, Victor pushed the door open and pulled Yuuri in behind him. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hold Yuuri. He wanted to somehow do both without destroying Yuuri’s concentration for his game.

“Hey.” Yuuri dared to speak first, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and guiding Victor to sit on the bed beside him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but dinner felt… weird… and there is no way I can get on the field tomorrow not knowing if we’re okay.” He felt the last two words catch on something dangerous in his throat, his eyes twitching in Victor’s direction before dropping to the ground.

“I’m scared,” Victor admitted. He shrugged his jacket off and tossed it over the desk chair, ignoring the thud as it slipped off and landed in a lump on the floor. “Trainers talk, you know, and Mila… she said… she told me some things.” Shifting, Victor bent his knee so he could face Yuuri, reaching out to prod at Yuuri’s waist in a silent request for him to do the same.

Sighing, Yuuri relented, kicking off his shoes and twisting his position on the edge of the bed. Steadying himself, Yuuri forced his eyes to meet Victor’s. “When I first started playing lacrosse, I was this chubby little kid without any sense of balance. I got shoved around by the older players and told that I was never going to be any good.” Letting his gaze fall again, Yuuri picked at the hem of his jeans. He watched as Victor’s hand gently rested on his thigh and felt the knots release from his stomach.

“My mom suggested that I take ballet. It helped a lot and I found that it gave me an advantage on the field. When everyone else was using their brute strength to move around, I was able to see the field differently. Still, I was always the smallest guy out there, and that is not something that opposing players let slide.” Yuuri gave himself a minute to pause. He had ever spoken any of this out loud, not even to Phichit or his parents. He had faced all of these obstacles alone, using the taunting words of those ignorant children to push himself harder.

“So… all of this… playing injured,” Victor lifted his free hand to gently rest against Yuuri’s neck, “it’s to prove that you’re tough enough?” He felt Yuuri’s muscles tense underneath him and cringed at his own inability to express his thoughts.

“Maybe?” Yuuri wasn’t fond of admitting it, but Victor had put it fairly succinctly. “I was tired of everyone thinking I was too little, too fat, or too weak, so I did something about it. I trained hard and I played harder. People don’t see me as weak anymore.”

“Yuuri,” Victor brushed a thumb over Yuuri’s cheek, guiding him to look at Victor. “Those kids didn’t think you were weak. They saw you as a threat, I’m sure of it. The skills you have are born of natural talent. I have no doubt how hard you have worked to hone them, but you have something other players don’t have. I’m sure it terrifies your opponents.” Victor chuckled when Yuuri rolled his eyes, but his heart beat quickened when Yuuri’s smile became less tense.

“No one was scared of me, trust me,” Yuuri laughed, scooting further back on the bed and laying down against the pillows. He crooked a finger in Victor’s direction and laughed again when Victor pounced on top of him. Using both hands, Yuuri combed Victor’s bangs back from his forehead and kissed the exposed skin. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” His brow furrowed as he studied Victor’s face.

“I can’t promise not to,” Victor smiled softly and leaned into Yuuri’s hand against his cheek. “It comes naturally when you lov- care about someone.” He prayed that he had amended his sentence quickly enough as to not cause Yuuri any sort of alarm. Although he was positive this is what love felt like, he didn’t need to be dropping such intense confessions in Yuuri’s lap the night before a big game. Their discussion had already taken enough emotional currency and Victor was eager to repay Yuuri for his open honesty. Wrapping his arms around Yuuri, Victor leaned in for a kiss.

Yuuri was almost positive that Victor had been about to mutter a precious L word that he had only ever heard from his parents, and jokingly from Phichit. His heart was erratic in his chest, the truth of the emotion hammering each letter into his rib cage. Separating only slightly from Victor’s lips, Yuuri smiled with his eyes still closed. “I care about you too, Victor.” He smiled into their next kiss, hoping that Victor’s happy hum meant that he understood exactly what Yuuri wasn’t saying.

Game three ended in a nail-biting last three minutes, in which their team scored the first and only goal of the entire match. JJ had been the attacker who had finally landed the ball against the opponent’s net, and the team had tackled him to the ground when the final whistle echoed over the field.

Every part of Yuuri felt like it was on fire. Normally, he was sore after a game, the product of pads, heat, and repeated shots against his body. In a grueling game such as this, he was also left mentally drained, his brain sloshing like mush between his ears after an hour of acute mental awareness of every player on the field.

Phichit hadn’t subbed in, even for a minute, and Yuuri could see the frustration on his best friend’s face as they made quick work of their showers in the foreign locker room. He didn’t have the mental fortitude to form proper words, so he settled for laying a hand on Phichit’s shoulder and smiling with understanding when Phichit’s defeated eyes met his tired ones. He let Phichit pull him into a hug, ignoring the jokes flying around them about telling their boyfriends what they were up to in the locker room. They separated in laughter, exchanging their private handshake before turning to throw their towels at their closest teammates.

The bus was eerily quiet on the ride home, the entire team too exhausted from their hard-fought win to engage in any sort of conversation. Yuuri let Victor pull his head down onto Victor’s lap, falling asleep within the first few minutes of Victor’s gentle caressing of his scalp.

Stars speckled the sky as the team bus finally made its turn towards the campus. Victor kept his eyes trained on the moon, his eyelids heavy and his thoughts muted with his own fatigue. He had no idea how Yuuri continued to keep such a staggering pace along with keeping his grades up and remembering basic life requirements like eating and showering. Victor had only been traveling with the team for three weekends and he already felt the desire for his own bed crawling like a needy beast under his skin. At the slow stop of the bus, Victor gently shook Yuuri awake, smiling when his boyfriend blinked up at him with bleary eyes.

Together, they trudged from the bus, throwing themselves into the front seats of Victor’s car and waiting for Phichit to sprawl across the backseat. Stumbling as a groggy group, they made their way up to Victor’s apartment, the scent of homemade food hitting them as soon as the door opened.

“I felt bad that I took the easy way out and flew home,” Chris explained, placing bowls of noodles and steaming marina sauce in front of each of them. “So I made you a carb-filled meal.” He accepted a sleepy kiss from Phichit and repositioned his chair so he could hold his boyfriend up while Phichit lazily spun his fork into the perfectly prepared noodles.

Watching the exchange with sleepy eyes, Yuuri leaned his head on Victor’s shoulder. “Do you think I could absorb this food through osmosis?” he questioned, head drooping forward as Victor chuckled.

“Not likely,” Victor placed a kiss against Yuuri’s hair and spun a bite from his own bowl, offering it to Yuuri’s lips. “I can feed you if you like.” He smiled as Yuuri tentatively stole the bite from his fork.

“Tempting,” Yuuri spoke around the food in his mouth, glaring at Phichit when he mumbled “gross” from his place against Chris’s chest. “I will forge my way through it though.” He lifted his fork, feeling as if it weighed tons instead of ounces, and dug into his bowl.

Twenty minutes later when they had all eaten their fill and thanked Chris profusely for his thoughtfulness, they all stumbled toward their beds. Yuuri happily curled around Victor’s back, letting his forehead fall into its place between Victor’s shoulder blades and sighing happily into Victor’s skin. Drowsy, he left one lingering kiss, whispering, “I love you” before passing into blissful sleep.

Smiling into his pillow, Victor wrapped his fingers into Yuuri’s, pulling Yuuri’s arms tighter around his waist. “I love you too,” he whispered, falling easily into dreamland to the sound of Yuuri’s peaceful breathing.

Their Sunday together had been nothing more than escaping the bed to retrieve food or use the bathroom, returning to each other’s embraces and ignoring the rest of the world. Yuuri’s finals had all concluded the week before and he thanked himself for his own decision not to postpone them like most of the team had. The offer was always on the table and Yuuri had turned it down for a fourth year in a row.

Victor’s limited class schedule had also concluded, his date for his thesis presentation set for a week after Yuuri’s final game. He chose to give himself a day’s break from his constant need to work, knowing that the next few days were predicted to be painfully Yuuri-free. Victor hoped that he would have a chance to spend some of the nights in Yuuri’s arms, knowing they both slept better when they were together, but also accepted the fact that Yuuri had more important things to focus on. This was Yuuri’s last chance to defend their school’s reigning title as national champions and he knew that starting Monday morning, Yuuri’s focus was going to be squarely pointed toward winning the final game of his collegiate career.

Minutes turned into hours and those hours felt all too short as Sunday afternoon faded into Sunday evening. Propped against Victor’s headboard, an open pizza box positioned between them, they let the sound of the movie neither of them was watching fill the room around them. Yuuri’s mind had already turned toward his schedule for the week while Victor was busy sneakily evaluating the visible injuries to Yuuri’s body.

“You’re staring,” Yuuri commented, tossing his pizza crust into the box and folding the lid closed. Without leaving the bed, he precariously balanced on the edge of it to shove the pizza box onto Victor’s desk.

“Your naked butt is currently sticking up in the air,” Victor laughed, poking Yuuri’s backside with his toe. “How am I supposed to _not_ stare?” He poked at Yuuri again when Yuuri wiggled his butt back and forth.

Crawling up the bed, Yuuri ungracefully flopped on top of Victor, chuckling when Victor made an exaggerated huffing noise. Snaking his hands behind Victor’s back, Yuuri ran them up Victor’s lean muscles to pull Victor closer into his chest. “I’m going to miss this over the next few days.” Yuuri turned his head to press a kiss to Victor’s sternum, his whole body easing into the naked warmth of Victor underneath him.

“We can still have this,” Victor skimmed his fingers over Yuuri’s shoulders, digging slightly into the muscles when he discovered the last of the remaining tension.

“The cuddles, maybe, but the other stuff…” Yuuri trailed off, burying his face against Victor’s chest.

“What do you mean?” Nudging Yuuri until he looked up, Victor leveled him with a questioning look.

“Celestino says that we should abstain from… activities… ahead of big games.” Yuuri could feel the red creeping over his face and ducked back down to avoid Victor’s eyes.

“Yuuri!” Victor shook Yuuri’s shoulders. “We had _activities_ on Friday night!” He heard Yuuri make a noncommittal noise and frowned. Wiggling his way down the pillows, Victor forced Yuuri to rise above him.

Avoiding eye contact, Yuuri brought his arms up to brace on either side of Victor’s head. “I mean… Celestino and I have never really had that talk before, because… you know… it wasn’t an issue…” Yuuri’s entire face burned with embarrassment, recalling the conversation between himself, Phichit and his coach in the middle of the hotel’s hallway, five minutes after curfew on the night before the game. “He sort of… caught me and Chris passing each other in the hallway and decided to have a talk with me and Phichit about his before-game rules.” Yuuri was still convinced that the conversation really could have taken place anywhere but in the middle of the hallway. Phichit, on the other hand, almost seemed proud for the blatant confirmation that he was getting regularly laid.

“That sounds awful,” Victor cooed. He was partially teasing Yuuri because his rosy cheeks were undeniably the cutest thing Victor had ever seen, but he was also sympathetic to how awkward the situation must have been. Remembering his own awkward interaction, Victor felt his own cheeks heat up. “Dr. Feltsman might have also mentioned something about… fraternizing with you ahead of the game. It was the worst lecture of my life and that’s saying something because he likes his lectures.” Victor took his turn avoiding Yuuri’s eyes. “He said something about Celestino being strict… I may have… simply ignored it…”

“We are terrible influences on each other,” Yuuri laughed, burying his face into Victor’s neck.

“The worst, honestly,” Victor responded, the last word fading into a soft moan when Yuuri grazed his teeth over Victor’s neck. “When does your enforced restriction begin?” Slipping his hands down Yuuri’s back, he made a slow path to Yuuri’s thighs, tightening his grasp and guiding Yuuri to straddle his waist.

“Tomorrow,” Yuuri lied, kissing Victor’s neck again. Celestino had ordered an immediate suspension to all types of intimate acts, pointing down the hall to Leo’s face and remarking about the sprained wrist Leo had sustained at the beginning of the year. Leo had disappeared into his room with a squeak and Guang Hong had run out only moments later, sprinting for the elevator as the rest of the team laughed.

Victor was positive that Yuuri wasn’t telling him the truth, ignoring it solely because the consequence of pointing it out would leave him aching for week. Deciding it was better for both of them to buy into Yuuri’s denial, Victor continued his leisurely strokes over Yuuri’s body, determined to soak up as much time as possible with his delectably naked boyfriend.

The roar of the stadium made the ground under Yuuri’s feet shake as they prepared to enter the field from the tunnel. His heart shook along with it, the nerves building in his chest and inflating like a balloon filled with anticipation. His ears were numb to the words of the chants, ignoring the sounds of the announcer’s voice and instead going deaf to the noise, the singular buzzing of his need to win the only sound still getting through.

National championship games would never be an event that Yuuri would find himself used to. In the first two years of his time at the university, his team had only made it to the third round of the tournament, leaving them to return home with their tails between their legs. Last year had been different though. Last year they had won in a stunning blow-out victory. This year they were returning as the defending champions.

This would be the last time Yuuri would step onto the field as their team’s goalie. Although he had begun school as a red-shirted freshman, the plan had quickly changed (magically and with circumstances Celestino created that Yuuri still didn’t understand) when the senior goalie had dropped out of school and took off to elope in Vegas with his boyfriend. The scandal had rocked the team, almost as much as Yuuri’s pure talent had. After his first game as their starting goalie, the rest of his teammates spent the time in the locker room swearing they were going to write thank you cards to their AWOL teammate.

Now, they were standing together. Yuuri was the senior this time, staring down the barrel of the access tunnel, feeling the weight of the responsibility as if it were a part of his pads. He had to block every shot. He had to give his team every opportunity to score. They had to win.

A sharp pinch in the lower right side of Yuuri’s abdomen made him flinch, his eyes squinting as he listened to the opposing team being announced. It happened again and he stretched his back straight, trying to relieve the assumed pain in his muscles.

“You okay?” Phichit put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, his concern painted across his face and uninhibited by a helmet. Celestino had told Phichit to dress for the game, and Phichit had done so, but he carried his helmet and stick, remarking quietly about not having a chance in hell to play in the actual game.

“Fine,” Yuuri responded, forcing himself to not react when the stabbing feeling returned. Most of his week had been spent practicing, carb-loading, and hunched over game film without the comfort of sleeping in bed with Victor on any night. He assumed his body was protesting his terrible decisions in a cruelly new way and shook Phichit’s hand from his shoulder. “Ready to win?” he asked, smirking in Phichit’s direction to hide the discomfort still dully piercing his side.

“Let’s do this!” Phichit yelled, causing the rest of the team to explode around them.

The announcer’s voice called their team onto the field, and Yuuri watched his teammates race through the opening, remaining back in formation with the starting lineup.

This would be his last chance to win for his school and nothing was going to stop him from playing every second.

“Yakov!” Celestino called from his place at the sideline, not looking back to where the other man stood. On instinct, Victor followed Yakov a step behind, eyes trained in the direction of Yuuri. “What’s my goalie doing? Does he have any injuries I need to know about?” Victor’s heart stopped, his eyes gluing to the side of Yakov’s face waiting impatiently for an answer. Silently, Yakov narrowed his eyes.

Once again, Yuuri was shifting away from his right side, his gloved hand resting near his hip as his focus remained on the action downfield. Their team was ahead by two goals, but Ciao Bin was getting bolder in the other team’s net and Yuuri could see his attackers beginning to struggle. JJ’s frustration was building, evident by the way that he simply couldn’t hold still even when supposedly freezing for a face-off. If Yuuri could continue to shut them out, they would win the game even without another goal.

“He is favoring his right side,” Victor spoke up, startling Yakov who turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “And he keeps putting pressure on it with his hand. There has to be something wrong, that’s not a usual habit of his.” Nodding in Yuuri’s direction, Victor watched as Yakov turned to survey their goalie.

“How much time left in this quarter?” Yakov asked Celestino, eyes never leaving Yuuri.

“One minute,” Celestino answered before cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling, “calm down JJ! Focus Leo! Hit him from the left!” The attacker and midliner both waved their sticks in acknowledgment, pacing each other down the field as they made another attempt at scoring. Leo’s shot was easily cradled into Ciao Bin’s stick causing the entire bench to groan.

“Send Katsuki to me as soon as he hits the side of the field.” Yakov crossed his arms, moving to plant himself a few feet from the bench. Victor moved cautiously to his side, worried glances flitting between Yakov’s stern face and Yuuri’s constantly shifting body.

Preparing himself for the impending shot, Yuuri tightened his hands over his stick. Seung Gil Lee ran toward him at full speed, his terrifying glare attempting to penetrate Yuuri’s concentration. Smirking, Yuuri shifted his position and smoothly caught Seung Gil’s shot, gasping as a lightning bolt of pain shot up his side. Quickly he dumped the ball to the closest defender and moved back in front of his goal. Seung Gil’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, making Yuuri squirm beneath his pads. When the attackman moved away, Yuuri exhaled a shaky breathe, willing his body to stop whatever madness was erupting within it.

A ref in the middle of the field blew his whistle signaling the end of the quarter. Yuuri attempted to jog from his spot, immediately slowing his pace when his body protested it. Sucking in air through his teeth, he vaguely registered Celestino yelling at him to report to Yakov. Angry about having to waste his two minutes with the medical staff instead of reassuring his team, Yuuri yanked his helmet from his head and moved to stomp toward Yakov.

Victor couldn’t help mentally noting the extremely flushed tint of Yuuri’s skin, nor the angry grind of Yuuri’s jaw. He had seen Yuuri hesitate to run from the field and his mind had immediately started to run through symptoms and possible causes. Although he was logically certain that a badly pulled muscle could cause most of Yuuri’s behaviors, his gut told him that his diagnosis wasn’t correct.

“Katsuki,” Yakov scolded, grabbing Yuuri by the front of the jersey to yank him forward. “We have limited time, what’s wrong with your side, son. And don’t tell me nothing. You haven’t received a significant hit all game, but you are protecting your right side as if it’s injured.”

Taking a defensive step backwards, Yuuri put his hands up. “Nothing’s wrong,” he lied, avoiding eye contact with Victor. “Maybe a bit of indigestion from last night’s dinner, but nothing life threatening.” To prove his point, Yuuri twisted into a stretch, biting the inside of his mouth hard to keep from reacting. _It’s probably a muscle_ , he told himself, twisting in the opposite direction to prove his point further.

“Yuuri,” Victor stepped around Yakov’s side, examining Yuuri’s face and looking closely for signs of distress. Yuuri wasn’t being honest, even if Victor had no concrete evidence to support the theory, he could feel the reality of it in his stomach. “Phichit is dressed, he can go in.”

Barely repressing a snarl, Yuuri shook his head to compose himself. “I’m fine, I’ve got this. It’s my game to win.”

Victor watched as Phichit’s face morphed into an offended expression behind Yuuri’s back. Yuuri wasn’t thinking clearly, either due to pain or his blind devotion to the team and Victor felt an urgent need to shake him. The whistle blew ending the two minute break and Yuuri turned back to the field without a second glance in his direction.

Instinct and the pooling dread in his stomach made Victor grab Yuuri’s arm, yanking him in a half circle to press two fingers to his lower abdomen. Yuuri began to protest, the words dying on his tongue as Victor let go of the pressure and Yuuri’s face contorted. “Yuuri, that’s not muscle,” Victor tried to argue, the push and release pain confirming Victor’s worst fear. “You can’t…”

“I can,” Yuuri responded, shaking Victor’s hand off of him and grabbing his stick from where it rested against the bench. He didn’t look back as he took his place on the field. He refused to acknowledge the throbbing still boring into his stomach. There was only one thing that needed his attention at that moment, and that was blocking every shot for the last fifteen minutes of the game.

Dumbfounded, Victor stood with his mouth gaping open. Yuuri’s selfish decision to remain on the field, when there was definitely something wrong with him, was making Victor’s chest feel like it was going to explode. Tears threatened his eyes, eyes which were still watching Yuuri, even as he couldn’t do anything more than fight the desire to strangle him.

The next minute moved in slow motion. The other team won the face-off, the ball easily passing between their players as they raced down the field toward Yuuri. Positioning himself for the attack, Yuuri only partially registered the player running towards him from the right side, his mind feeling hazier than ever and his body feeling weighed down and sluggish. He moved too late, missing the block and putting himself in direct line with the charging attackman.

Every person in the stadium gasped as the two bodies collided on the field. Yuuri landed against the turf, his stick falling from his hand as the other player slammed down on top of him. The hit hadn’t been on purpose, but the crowd began to react with deafening anger.

Victor’s heart dropped out of his chest. While the other player stood with the help of surrounding teammates, Yuuri remained motionless on the field. Faintly, he heard someone from the bench yell that Yuuri wasn’t getting up before he registered the shouts coming from the field. His shoulder jostled when Yakov ran past him, Celestino on his heels as the team circled around Yuuri’s body.

Feet moving of their own volition, Victor was stopped in his tracks by Phichit’s firm grasp on his arms. “Whatever is going on out there, you shouldn’t see it,” Phichit advised, tightening his grip when Victor attempted to escape it.

The cart appeared with a stretcher, and two attendants moved Yuuri’s body onto the lowered bed. There was no thumbs up or signs of life from Yuuri at all and Victor’s resolve broke. Throwing his body forward he escaped Phichit’s hold and sprinted toward the tunnel.

His feet slapped the concrete as he chased down the cart, reaching it as the stretcher was being removed and guided toward the waiting ambulance. Yuuri’s pads and jersey laid in cut scraps on the ground and Victor swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He approached the ambulance, showing his trainer badge. “I’m riding with him,” he commanded, not letting his voice waiver when the EMTs paused to consider him. “I’m a trainer on the team and I think I know what’s wrong with him. I can help.” When the closest EMT nodded, Victor climbed into the back of the ambulance, eyes never leaving the unconscious face of his love.

Four hours.

Four hours after Yuuri had been wheeled into the emergency room, IV already in place and Victor’s suspected diagnosis listed on his admittance chart, Yuuri was finally resting quietly in the recovery room. Machines beeped around the small room created by hanging curtains, and Victor sat next to him, anxiously waiting for Yuuri to wake up.

It was confirmed upon examination that Yuuri’s appendix had burst. The doctor had informed the team, along with the coaching staff and training staff, that if it hadn’t been for the foresight of the trainer in the ambulance, Yuuri could have lost his life. Knowing to look for the appendix rupture first had given them precious time that would have been easily lost during blind evaluation.

Everyone had taken turns hugging Victor. His mind was fuzzy and his heart was bleeding, but he accepted each hug without hesitation. He didn’t need their gratitude or Yakov’s apologies, he needed Yuuri to be okay. For every second that Yuuri had spent in surgery, Victor stared out of the closest window, begging for Yuuri to make it. Chris and Phichit had spent time sitting with him, none of them talking, knowing that there were no words to describe the feelings they were dealing with. When the surgeon had appeared to report his team’s success, Victor had lurched forward asking how soon until he could see Yuuri.

All of those hours felt as if they had passed in another lifetime. The game from earlier felt like something Victor had experienced years ago, instead of a matter of a few hours. Every moment from the one in which Yuuri had collapsed on the field had aged Victor in double the years. Standing at Yuuri’s bedside, Victor tried to reconcile all of his emotions, wanting to tie them into a neat bundle and tuck them away in his mind so he could support Yuuri and not require any support in return.

Consciousness faded in slowly, feeling like a heavy curtain rising from behind Yuuri’s eyes. The beeps and muted voices circling around him felt otherworldly and completely contradictory to the thundering sounds of the stadium. His mind flooded with confusion as he tried to piece his world back together. His last memory was the regret of his failed block, a regret which sank deep within his heart as he fell toward the ground. Everything after that was blank.

His eyelids felt heavy, as if gravity had increased during his time in darkness. Struggling against their weight, Yuuri opened them, discovering a nondescript ceiling above him. The coolness of the rough sheet over his arms crept into his conscious next followed quickly by the feeling of air being forced into his nose. Grunting against the onslaught of sensations, Yuuri turned his head and discovered Victor standing above him.

Tears stung Victor’s eyes as Yuuri turned to face him. He told himself he wouldn’t cry, he told himself that he would be strong for Yuuri. None of those resolutions could withstand the sight of Yuuri looking back at him.

Arms hampered by the tubes fed into them, Yuuri reached for Victor. He felt the sob rise in his throat when Victor leaned into this arms, tears pouring down his cheeks as he clung to Victor’s broad shoulders. He had no idea what had happened, he had no idea where he was, and his fear caused him to cling to Victor with the desperate desire to never let go.  

“You’re so stupid,” Victor cried, tucking his face close to Yuuri’s shoulder and trying to avoid putting any pressure on Yuuri’s incision site. “Your appendix burst. You could have… you could’ve… could’ve _died_.” Broken sobs crashed from Victor, shattering along with his glass-like tears soaking into Yuuri’s hospital gown. “Please, don’t ever… I thought…” he couldn’t complete a single thought, all of the emotions he had been holding in check since he ran from the field flooded from him as his carefully built dam broke.

“I won’t leave you,” Yuuri promised in a rough voice he barely recognized. Pulling Victor closer, he leaned back onto the pillow behind his back. His stomach felt uncomfortable and he guessed that the limited pain he felt had something to do with the medications running into his arm. He couldn’t wrap his head around the words Victor was saying, he could only focus on the man sobbing into his chest as they clung to each other.

The curtain rattled as it was pulled back, revealing Celestino, Yakov, and a man dressed in green scrubs. Yuuri peered at them over Victor’s head, feeling Victor use the front of his hospital gown to attempt to wipe his face.

“We give out a lot of team trophies,” Celestino began, hands shoved deep in his pockets with a relieved smile on his face, “but I believe we’ll have to create a new one in your honor.”

“For stupidity,” Yakov added. In spite of his rough joke, he too was smiling at Yuuri. Victor uncurled from his spot in Yuuri’s arms to glare at his mentor. “Be thankful for your boyfriend here. His quick thinking and own personal stubbornness saved your life.”

Looking at Victor, Yuuri felt a thousand questions swimming into his mind. He wanted to know every detail about what had happened to lead him to the bed he was currently in. He wanted to know exactly what Victor had done to save his life. One incredibly important question pushed to the front of his mind, surpassing the immediate need for answers to the others.

“I just have one question,” Yuuri spoke, his voice cracking as he glanced between the men surrounding him. “Who won the game?”

As the tandem scolding began from Celestino and Yakov, Yuuri turned to smile at Victor, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you, for whatever you did.” Tugging on Victor’s hand, Yuuri tuned out the voices of the two men lecturing him from their place at the foot of his bed.

“I made the right call, at the right time,” Victor sighed, knowing that if he had only forced Yuuri not to return to the field, this entire horrific chapter in their lives could have been avoided. Knowing that he couldn’t go back in time and that dwelling on it wouldn’t change what had happened, Victor let the thought vanish from his mind as he bent to kiss Yuuri’s forehead.

Sighing into the warm comfort of Victor’s kiss, Yuuri settled back to smile weakly at his boyfriend. Victor looked a little worse for the wear and Yuuri was positive he didn’t look any better. Yuuri knew they would need to discuss whatever happened over the course of the unknown amount of hours since the game. He was reassured by the beauty of Victor’s smile that they would find a way to make it through it and that they would give themselves the time to do so.

A memory floated back to Yuuri of a starlit field acting like a backdrop to highlight Victor’s beauty. Feeling his smile begin to strengthen, Yuuri placed his hand over Victor’s heart. “See I told you,” Yuuri held Victor’s gaze as he finished his thought. “Timing is everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my beta [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) who is my amazing partner in the never-ending war between breath and breathe! 
> 
> I am considering opening prompts for this universe, so if you like that idea, please come let me know on Tumblr or Twitter!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today. 
> 
> Tomorrow.
> 
> Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the time markers for the sections are based off their time from when Chapter 4 ended. 
> 
> There is now a series going for this AU! Please check out the posted one-shot [Bet on Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422358) which takes places between Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of the main fic :) 
> 
> I can't believe this story is ending! I enjoyed every minute of this collab with [Mac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrumpetGeek/pseuds/katsukifatale) and I am so grateful that we had this project together for the [reverse bang](http://yurionicebigbang.tumblr.com) before Mac goes off to conquer the world! Thank you, Mac, for taking the time to do this with me during one of the craziest and busiest times of your life - I will always love this story because it is ours! 
> 
> Please check out all of Mac's amazing artwork located here: [aetgart aka katsukifatale](http://aetgart.tumblr.com)

**2 hours later**

Celestino and Yakov had said their goodbyes in the recovery room, promising to check up on Yuuri during his stay in the hospital. The way Celestino had patted Yuuri’s knee and suggested they sit down to talk once Yuuri was better made his stomach curl in potentially unnecessary knots. If Celestino wanted to lecture him, he would have already done so, which left Yuuri with a stammering sense of unease despite Celestino’s calm smile.

Victor had fussed endlessly once Yuuri was wheeled into the room which would be his home for the next four days. There was a sleeper chair next to Yuuri’s bed and Victor promptly declared he would be camping out for the duration of Yuuri’s hospital stay. Even feeling groggy and distinctly gross post-surgery, Yuuri pulled Victor into another grateful hug. He had sustained a number of injuries in his life, but had never spent the night in the hospital. Having Victor willing to stay with him made Yuuri relax even in the unfamiliar situation.

A commotion outside of his door had him immediately tensing again.

“Look, Chris, I don’t care if they are lick-a-dick partners, Yuuri is my best friend, and I am going in there!” The partially-closed curtain flung fully open, revealing a determined Phichit and an apologetic Chris. “Katsuki, am I really so bad that you would rather _die_ than let me play?”

Phichit’s wry smile was an obvious sign of his true displeasure with Yuuri’s decisions. Clearing his throat, Yuuri reached over to tug Victor’s sleeve. “Do you think that you could pack a bag for me? I don’t have any things here. My phone… clothes… nothing. Underwear would be nice.” His throat still felt on the wrong side of raw making Yuuri wince with every word. Victor’s hesitation was apparent, but Yuuri held his gaze trying to silently convey his reasoning.

“Come on,” Chris let go of Phichit’s hand and crossed the room to put an arm around Victor’s shoulders. “Let’s get you a shower and pack bags for you both. I’m sure you are placing yourself in the role of Yuuri’s personal bedside nurse. Can’t have someone else giving him sponge baths.” Without letting Victor have a last kiss, Chris dragged him from the room whispering “good luck” in Yuuri’s direction.

“Seat?” Yuuri waved a tentative hand toward the chairs around his bed, taking it as a good sign when Phichit chose to sit on the bed instead. “Are you mad at me Yuuri or other Yuuri?” He looked down at his hands as Phichit huffed. Other Yuuri usually showed up during high stress times, but mostly he reared his ugly, oblivious head in the middle of heated games, especially if those games came with painful emotional undertones.

“Both… neither… I’m not even _mad_.”

There was a hitch in Phichit’s sentence which drew Yuuri’s attention from his fiddling fingers. He found tears hinting at the corners of Phichit’s eyes and felt his stomach twist itself back into familiar knots.

“You’re such a dumbass,” Phichit threw himself forward, grabbing Yuuri’s shoulders and squeezing him into a hug. “I mean, _really_ , we already beat those guys once and you knew I would be okay. It isn’t always up to you… not _just you_ anyway.”

A foggy memory of standing on the sideline, glaring at Yakov and Victor, speaking regrettable words about the game being his floated back into Yuuri’s mind. Phichit was right, he was constantly taking the burden of winning and losing on himself, forgetting that he didn’t have to shoulder it alone. Wrapping his left arm around Phichit’s shoulders, Yuuri buried his forehead against his best friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I am sure you were incredible. I just… it was my last game… I will never put on that uniform again. The thought of not finishing it…. I don’t know… it took over every part of my brain.”

“What little brain you have,” Phichit retorted without any malicious heat behind the statement. “Yuuri, I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry,” Yuuri squeezed Phichit again, his chest constricting as he realized that this I love you wasn’t a joke. He loved Victor in every way possible, but he loved Phichit too and that was just as important. Feeling himself becoming overwhelmed, a mixture of the dreariness still plaguing his body after surgery and the hurricane of emotions building inside of him, Yuuri decided a change of subject would be best for his sanity. “You know…” gently pushing Phichit back, Yuuri cocked his head to the side. “If you really love me, you’ll tell me who won the game. No one else would!”

“I threatened them,” Phichit shrugged, grinning when Yuuri wheezed out a laugh. “Death by social media massacre.” His eyebrows wiggled as he rearranged himself on the bed at Yuuri’s feet. “And how could you even doubt that we won? I, personally, was amazing…”

Laying back against his pillows, Yuuri couldn’t help his face-splitting grin as Phichit began to excitedly retell every second of the last quarter of the game. With every detail and every exaggerated action noise, Yuuri let his sadness about not finishing his last game fade into the background. His time as the team’s backbone had come to an end, leading the way to a time when Phichit would shine.

Every part of his heart knew that no matter what bittersweetness came with saying goodbye, it was worth it if Phichit was finally given his time in the spotlight. Smiling fondly as Phichit continued to give him the blow-by-blow of the game, Yuuri knew there was no one better than his best friend to take his place. 

**4 days later**

The darkness was back, keeping Yuuri unstable and completely unaware of his surroundings. Sturdy hands on his shoulders were guiding him forward, steadying him every time he stumbled. Next to him, he felt Victor struggling in a similar fashion and reached down to blindly grope for Victor’s hand.

“Why exactly are we blindfolded?” Yuuri asked. He had posed the question no less than five times since he had stood from his wheelchair in front of the hospital and eased himself into the back seat of Chris’s car. The ache in his side was still a prevalent reminder of his own poor decisions, but he felt more human than he had in days.

“Because it is a surprise,” Phichit responded, completely exasperated with Yuuri’s refusal to simply play along. “Come on, a few more steps.”

Yuuri let Phichit keep pushing him, smiling as he heard Victor leveling his own complaints in Chris’s direction. Although he instinctually worried about Phichit’s idea of a surprise, he recognized trusting Phichit had always been like a second nature.

“Alright! We’re here!”

Chris’s grand declaration interrupted Yuuri’s thoughts and he blinked into the bright light of the hallway when his blindfold was torn from his eyes. “Our front door! It’s what I always wanted!” Yuuri squealed sarcastically, slapping both of his hands to his cheeks and wincing at the slight pull of his stitches. He laughed when Phichit swatted his shoulder. “Hey, no harming the invalid,” Yuuri said, nudging Phichit with his elbow.

“If we are all done with the snarky portion of our evening,” sticking his tongue out at Yuuri, Phichit unlocked the front door and threw it open.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged dubious glances. “I don’t get it,” Victor deadpanned, looking over his shoulder to Chris for an explanation.

“Perhaps, my darling,” Chris said with a crooked smile, “we should have kept their blindfolds on until we were inside.” Shoving Victor’s shoulder, Chris reached back to grab Yuuri gently by the wrist. “Go to Yuuri’s bedroom, I’m sure you know the way.” With a wink, Chris pushed Victor again, laughing when Victor reached back to pinch him.

Cautiously pushing open the door to his room, Yuuri immediately noticed two things. The first being that his desk was missing and the second being his jersey was hanging from the top of his closet door covered in the signatures of his teammates. Moving forward, Yuuri brushed his fingers on the ink names on the fabric, feeling tears beginning to prickle his eyes.

“They are retiring your number,” Phichit said, throwing an arm over Yuuri’s shoulders. “We thought you could have one signed jersey to save and your other jersey for… other _activities_.” Yuuri’s face flushed bright red as Phichit laughed in his ear.

“This is my bed,” Victor remarked, his hand scratching his head as the other hung loosely at his side. “Why is my bed in Yuuri’s room?”

“Because it isn’t just Yuuri’s anymore!” Phichit exclaimed, stepping away from Yuuri before throwing his arms wide. “Although your clothes aren’t in here. I gave you my old closet, because damn man, for someone with a limited social life, you sure do have a lot of clothes.”

Phichit stopped talking when Chris clamped a hand over his mouth. “Alright, let’s show them the other room shall we?” Dragging a protesting Phichit backwards, Chris grinned back at them with a slightly manic smile. Shrugging at Victor, Yuuri took his hand and followed them.

“Welcome to…” Phichit performed a drumroll on the door, having wiggled out of Chris’s grasp by biting his fingers. “Your new office!” Throwing open the second door, Phichit spun into the room. “Ta da!”

Yuuri’s desk and Victor’s desk sat against opposite walls, both of their computers clean and perfectly assembled in their new homes. Victor’s thesis board hung on another wall, and underneath it ran a perfectly stacked book shelf complete with a plush cushion on top of it. It extended from one end of the room to the other, and was decorated with soft looking pillows.

“The book shelf was Chris’s idea.” Phichit plopped down on it, wiggling into the cushion. “And he built it. How hot is that?” He laughed when Chris smacked him in the face with a pillow.

“I’m confused,” Yuuri thought out loud, spinning in a slow circle in the room. The living room had looked exactly the same, but the bedroom and this new office were clearly a merge of all his and Victor’s things. There was not a hint of Phichit’s existence left in their previously shared space.

“I believe…” Victor moved next to Yuuri and pulled him closer by the waist. “That we are now roommates.”

“Oh my GOD! They are roommates!” Phichit feigned shock, giving Chris wide eyes as he dodged another strike by the pillow.

“Are you okay with this?” Victor asked, brushing Yuuri’s bangs back from his forehead. “We can make them change it back if you aren’t. Even with your injury, I think we can take them.”

Yuuri’s face broke into a brilliant smile, his laughter filling the room as he threw his arms over Victor’s shoulders. “I’m okay with it as long as you are. I want nothing more than spending every night sleeping with you,” he rolled his eyes when Chris whistled. “And waking up next to you every day sounds perfect to me.”

“Plus it will prevent Victor from apparating into our apartment every two minutes to make sure I haven’t let you die,” Phichit commented from his place across the room. He snorted when Chris blew a loud raspberry against his cheek.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now, huh?” Yuuri laughed, hugging Victor a little tighter.

“That is exactly where I want to be,” Victor retorted, bending down to kiss Yuuri. Breaking the kiss, Victor leaned into Yuuri’s ear and whispered, “Now I am going to go pummel them with pillows.”

With Yuuri’s happy laughter spurring him on, Victor leapt onto the bench next to Chris and proceeded to beat both of their best friends with one of their hand-chosen decorative pillows.

**Nine days later**

Suit perfectly pressed, presentation queued and ready to begin, note cards carefully cradled in his hand, Victor was ready for the defining moment of the last three years of his life. Every hour of fun sacrificed, every cup of coffee drank, every minute of sleep he didn’t get had led him to this moment. Taking the tiny remote in his hand, Victor stepped away from his laptop, centering his attention on the people sitting in front of him.

When he had begun this entire process, the people he researched and the biology he studied was all two-dimensional. Every study, every filled notebook, and every piece of data had a purpose. At some point it had all become theories on a page, the element of the people who could benefit from his ideas vanishing as he became lost in the details.

Then Yuuri had appeared in his world. Yuuri and his love of dogs. Yuuri and his alarming addiction to all things fried potato. Yuuri and his determination to keep playing, even when his body wanted to fail.

It was through Yuuri that Victor remembered that he wasn’t working with muscle groups and injured limbs. He was working with the captain of the field hockey team who was determined to be able to kneel to properly propose to her unsuspecting girlfriend. He was working with the wrestler whose back spasms were preventing him from sleeping and therefore risking his academic success. Yuuri had let Victor experiment on him, and he had also reminded Victor that he wasn’t studying sports medicine, he was studying people and how to improve their quality of life.

His defense passed in a well-timed, strategic manner, of which Victor couldn’t recall a single detail. Sitting in the hallway, the wooden bench hard underneath him and Yuuri warm next to him, Victor pressed his palms flat together and squeezed them with his knees. Telling himself to calm down, Victor felt his neck protest when he snapped it toward the opening door.

“Doctor,” Yakov greeted him, his smile unable to be contained despite what appeared to be an uncomfortable attempt to do so.

Blanking, Victor stared at him, turning to blink at Yuuri when he began to shake Victor’s shoulders. “Doctor,” Yuuri whisper screamed, “Victor, you did it!”

He had an armful of Yuuri before the reality sank into his brain. Looking back at Yakov, Victor could feel his face shaping into something reluctantly hopeful.

“Doctor Nikiforov,” Yakov repeated, smile finally breaking as he opened his arms. Victor felt Yuuri let him go, his body floating to where his mentor stood and happily accepting the offered hug.

Victor returned to the hallway once all the formalities were finished, scooping Yuuri into his arms and spinning him around. He kissed Yuuri as soon as his feet were back on the ground, feeling a swelling in his chest that he couldn’t describe.

“Let’s celebrate,” Yuuri said, breathless from Victor’s vigorous kisses. “You’re already dressed up and it will only take me a few minutes to change. I’ll take you to that sushi place you like.” Laughing, Yuuri leaned back as Victor smushed their lips together again. “So, yes?” Yuuri asked, grinning as Victor excitedly nodded his head and came in for another kiss.

**Nine days and six hours later**

“Yuuri,” Victor whispered, his nose smashed against Yuuri’s face, the smell of alcohol leaking from every one of Victor’s pores. “Yuuri, guess what…” Nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck, Victor didn’t resist his urge to nibble at the soft skin he found there.

“What,” Yuuri giggled, only partially sober himself but not nearly as far gone as the newly minted doctor. He managed to get his key successfully into the lock and the door opened, dragging Victor in with him.

“We’re going to be Dr. and Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov someday, you know,” Victor tried to wink, but most of the left side of his face was involved in the process. Throwing his jacket over the back of the couch, Victor almost fell when he turned around to attempt to dance while unbuttoning his shirt. “Come play doctor with me, Yuuri,” Victor flirted, getting his tie stuck on his head as he stumbled backward toward the bedroom.

Shaking his head, Yuuri locked their front door and then followed the path of Victor’s discarded clothes, feeling exceptionally glad that they had nowhere to be for the next several days. Victor had been genuinely surprised when they had arrived at the restaurant and Chris and Phichit had immediately thrown confetti in his face. JJ and Isabella came too, along with Mila, Georgi, and even Celestino. Yakov arrived long enough to slam down an alarming amount of vodka before declaring he was too old for this and leaving with a ridiculously drunk Celestino. Overall, it had been a perfect way to celebrate Victor’s success, but Yuuri was looking forward to a little bit of private celebration as well.

Stepping into the bedroom, he discovered Victor lying like a starfish over their bed, his pants hanging from one ankle and both of his shoes still on. Soft snores were escaping from where Victor’s face was jammed into their comforter. Biting his bottom lip so he wouldn’t wake his sleeping beauty, Yuuri set about finishing the job Victor started and encouraging him to roll onto his own pillow.

They made sure to celebrate, in a number of creative ways, once Victor’s hangover finally released him from its torturous grasp.

**Six years later**

“Coach!”

Yuuri turned to look over his shoulder, smiling as his favorite person walked across the field. “Doctor,” he replied, tipping his chin up to receive a kiss from his husband.

“How are your recruits looking?” Victor placed a hand on Yuuri’s waist, bumping their hips together and turning his attention to the field. One player stood out above the others, his passionate play and graceful moves reminding Victor very much of the man standing next to him. “Who is…” Victor stopped talking when a stream of curse words erupted from the young man, his eyes going wide as he glanced toward Yuuri. “Spirited,” he commented, both eyebrows raised.

“His name is also Yuri,” laughing, Yuuri looped his arm around Victor’s waist and watched as Yuri chased Minami down the field, screeching as Minami continued to throw playful insults over his shoulder. “Wait until you see Minami’s new hair,” he said nodding toward his junior attackman as he dodged Yuri’s swinging stick, “it is something straight out of Celestino’s worst nightmares.” He flinched when Yuri finally caught up to Minami, leveling a hit against his teammate that wouldn’t be considered legal by even the blindest of refs.

Two young men dressed in the familiar polos worn by the trainers attempted to intervene when Yuri threw his helmet off and went to dive at Minami. On the field, Yuri froze, face inches away from the dark-haired boy who was holding him back. They separated suddenly, Yuri stumbling backwards over his own stick and the other boy stumbling seemingly over nothing.

“Hm,” Victor pondered, bringing a finger to his lips. “It seems my newest intern may have just taken a liking to your firecracker. Perhaps we are seeing the birth of victuuri two point oh.” He grinned when Yuuri elbowed him in the side.

“Celestino and Yakov would consider that sweet revenge,” Yuuri smiled, thinking about his old coach. Celestino had been the one to give Yuuri the assistant coach’s position and then happily recommended Yuuri to take over as head coach when he retired. Celestino had trusted him with his legacy and with his winning record and Yuuri had no plans to let him down.

Standing on the edge of the field where they had shared their first date, Yuuri let his head rest on Victor’s shoulder, ignoring the quizzical looks they were receiving from his rookies. They would learn soon enough that there was a reason that their university held the bragging rights to highest winning average in collegiate lacrosse history. They would also learn to put up with the copious amounts of public affection enjoyed by the two men who made it possible.

Smiling when Victor pressed a kiss to his head, Yuuri sighed. Happiness was doing what he loved, with the man he loved, all possible because of the night that he wanted to pet a dog at a party. “We should take Rufus a steak,” Yuuri said out loud, laughing along with Victor who kissed him again.

“Rufus the matchmaker,” Victor chuckled, “we should definitely take him another steak.”

With smiles on their faces, Victor and Yuuri stood on the sidelines, ready for another year and another chance to make history. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) who made sure Victor wasn't a dictator, that Yuuri wasn't becoming a human slinky, and that my dumb ass fixed every wrong breath. (that's probably wrong lol) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please consider checking out my other AUs! If you would like to send a prompt for this universe, I'm on Twitter and Tumblr!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the absolutely incredible and always loved [atelerixe](https://atelerixe.tumblr.com) !!
> 
> If you want to connect with me, please come find me on Tumblr or Twitter!
> 
>  
> 
> [NeRdLife4Eva Twitter](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)


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